#love and deepspace tickling

[lovelynim]

Undivided attention

Love and Deepspace - Rafayel x Reader

A/N: Sorry for making you wait this much, @ppystkposts, and thank you for the patience! While this is more of an art trade than a comm, you were still an amazing client and I had a blast working on this piece for you!

Also, shout out and kudos to @/ticklygiggles for beta reading this monstrosity of a fic for me!

Summary: Something happened and made Rafayel upset at you. The problem? You don't even know what it is!

Word count: 5137 words

[Also on Ao3]

Friday, 6 p.m. 

You couldn’t recall the last time a shift took this long to end. Maybe you were just excited for this weekend - you had a lot planned, after all - but you couldn’t help but wonder if those boring reports were totally free of any guilt.

“I’m sooo tired,” Tara whined, standing by your side in the changing room. You giggled, opening your own locker while listening to her rambling. “If I see a single more wanderer, I swear!”

“Well, there could always be an emergency call,” you teased, holding back a chuckle when you heard Tara groan.

“Nooo, don’t say that!” She pouted, throwing you a deadly glare before continuing to change her clothes, “I need at least a week- no, a month without seeing those things after today!”

“Two days is the best captain Jenna can grant you. Take or leave it,” you smiled at her, but she had a good point there. A week off sounded like heaven right now. Still, who were you to refuse two days off work?

With your uniform carelessly tossed into a bag, you kept yourself busy buttoning up your shirt, looking down at that trail as one stubborn button refused to get into place.

Just as you were about to get it in, something else captured your attention and drove your eyes elsewhere.

“So, any plans for the weekend?” Tara hummed, breaking the silence. She sat on the bench behind you, changing her uniform skirt for some casual jeans. “It’s been a while since we went out together ~”

“I can’t,” you mumbled back, already lowering your head to focus on your previous task and starting from ground zero again. “Me and Raf-”

“Uuugh,” she interrupted, resting her elbows on her thighs and her head on her hands. She pouted, looking at you with a judgemental side-eye. “Guess the mr. perfect got to you before me, again.”

“Hey,” you snapped, finishing your shirt before turning to her with an arched eyebrow, “that wasn’t very nice of you.”

“You’re not being very nice either. What happened to ‘chicks before dic-’”

“Don’t you dare finish that!” You pointed at her, frowning.

“But ever since you two started dating we never hung together again!” Tara crossed her arms and stomped her feet, clearly upset with being demoted to the B-plan for your weekends. “We are barely friends at this point… I should just invite someone else for my super-awesome-weekend schedule.”

“Aw, Tara…” You cooed, dropping yourself on the bench right next to her. You placed your hand on her thigh, cocking your head to the side to try to get a look at her face. “But we are friends, Rafayel isn’t changing that.”

Tara promptly ignored your approach, turning her face away and letting a small ‘humph’ sound. “That’s not what it looks like.”

“It’s- it’s important for him this time, I swear!” You whined, shaking her leg a bit to emphasize your words. “You’re making a villain out of me, we were together the whole week!”

“We were working together the whole week, it’s different!”

It was like pushing against an immovable wall. An immovable, cold and extremely annoyed wall. Were you really that bad of a friend? Or was Tara just being extra dramatic this time? Some seconds went by as you gave it some thought and decided that you couldn’t let yourself be treated like this.

She wanted to ignore you? Well, you’d like to see her try, then.

“Taraaaa ~” You called for her again, almost singing her name this time. You lifted your palm from her thigh, letting the tip of your fingers brush against her leg and up to her waist. Her leg twitched as soon as you prodded at the spot near her hip. “Are you really mad at me? You’re not, right?”

“S-stop it! I’m nohot in the mood fohohor your stupihid games!”

She was quick to respond to your mischievous touch - as expected of a hunter, after all. Tara’s hand latched onto your wrist, promptly trying to dislodge your hand from her body. Her grip was strong, but it wouldn’t be your first time overpowering her in moments like this. “But I don’t want my best friend mad at me ~”

“Thehen you shohould be a behehetter friend! A-ahagh, enohough!” She giggled angrily, turning her body around to push you away with her other hand. She had that crooked, yet cute smile on her lips and you could only grin back at her. 

With her hand pressing against your cheek, you reached for her other side as well and quickly wiggled your fingers against it, dragging your nails over the clothed skin. “Taraaa ~ don’t be mad! Forgive me, please? I swear I’ll stop if you do!”

She let out a groan - or was it a squeal? Whatever it was, it was clearly a result of your efforts. “You dohOHon’t deseheherve my fohohorgiveness!” She hissed, even trying to bring her knees up and curl herself into a ball to escape from your apologetic tickles. Fruitless, of course.

Before you could take note of it, Tara had her back laid on the bench and you on top of her, straddling one of her legs while both your hands tickled her restlessly.

So far, she had already punched your arms at least five times and pushed your thrice. There were also two attempts to tickle you back, but she couldn’t keep her hands lifted for long enough to actually make it work. Tara was already laughing her heart out, but her anger seemed to have a better endurance than her this time.

“Come on, I’m going to be late at this rate!” You teased her, your thumbs drilling into her lower ribs, “if I take too long, Rafayel might ask me for another date!”

“ThehEHEhen gohoho kihihiss your duhuhumb bohOHOho- boyyfriehehend!” She snapped, her heel hitting the bench behind you and making the whole thing shake a little. You furrowed your brows, just how stubborn could she be? You already lost count of how many times you apologized!

Just as you were about to take some drastic, but much needed measures, someone else’s voice broke into the room’s chaos. It was gentle, but there was some lingering annoyance and arrogance on it, almost as if it carried some sort of superiority - or as if its owner believed so.

“Is now not a good time, ladies?” Rafayel mocked, leaning against a nearby wall and crossing his arms, stuck-up. He stared at the scene while you slid off Tara’s lap, making room for her to sit back up.

You and her exchanged looks, a mistake on your part as now you felt yourself being judged by both parties. Still, Tara seemed a bit more convinced. She rolled her eyes, giving you a soft smile. “Hi, Rafayel. We were just about to go out.”

“Oh, I could tell,” he nodded, letting out a small sigh of disbelief at Tara’s attempt of explaining the situation, “I assume you two just got distracted, then.”

��Heeeey,” you interrupted, getting yourself between them and walking towards Rafayel. You cornered him against the wall, giving that angry frown a kiss before looking up to him, “I’m sorry for leaving you waiting, ok? No need to get feisty.”

You stepped back, trying to see if the whole picture was looking any better after your attempt of making peace with the angry boyfriend. “I’m almost done changing, see? Just give me a moment and I’ll be outside, ‘kay?” You explained while you pushed him out of the room. Noticing how Rafayel made no effort to resist it, you assumed he wasn’t as mad anymore.

When you walked back into the changing room, Tara was already standing before her locker. She brushed her index finger over her lip, applying some balm on it. “I didn’t mean to make you two fight,” she muttered, shyly looking at you.

“Fight? Pfft, as if,” you shook your head, doing your hair and then slamming your locker’s door close. “We never fight, like- we are such a dream couple, you know?” She giggled, shaking her head. “I will make it up to you, ok? Lunch for a week, my treat!”

“Fine, I take it, then,” Tara nodded, hugging you goodbye before walking past you and towards the exit, “enjoy your weekend! And…” she stopped, looking at something outside the room before moving her eyes back to you, “good luck.” 

You raised your eyebrow, confused, but shrugged it off. There was no time to really worry about that now, was there?

As you walked outside, Rafayel was the first thing you spotted. “Did I make you wait for long?” You asked sweetly, trying to work your charms on him.

“You did,” he answered coldly, stubbornly refusing to take your hand for the first few tries before finally giving in. “I was about to drive back home without you.”

“I know you wouldn’t dare,” you teased him, giving him some of your affection by force. You wrapped your arms around his, letting Rafayel guide the way to the parking lot, “ohh, are you driving by yourself this time? Or is there a driver waiting for us?” You chirped with excitement, tugging at his arm while trying to get a look at his face.

The only thing you could see, however, was a frown. Thinking about it, he didn’t really say anything ever since you two left the main building - he wasn’t even holding you back! 

“Rafayel?” You called again once there was no response in a good while, “I'm talking to you,” you mumbled, narrowing your eyes. You could hear a sigh before Rafayel threw a glance over you, acknowledging your words but still refusing to answer your call.

He shook his arm off your grip, taking a few steps to increase the distance between you two. You were about to throw your purse at his head, but noticed how he turned around and got in the car by the door on the other side. Tsk, what’s with that attitude? “If you are going to treat me like that, I’m canceling our plans,” you threatened, almost as if infected by his annoyance after being exposed to it.

“Sorry, I’m just with something else in mind,” Rafayel replied shortly, drily, almost as if to fulfill some sort of protocol. He took the driver’s seat, fastening the seat belt and quickly getting his hands on the steering wheel.

You huffed, not believing his excuse. “And what is it, then?”

“...Forget it,” he mumbled, stepping on the gas pedal and looking at the mirrors and then around the car. Pretty much anything but you.

It was helpless, you thought, leaning back into your seat and resting your head on it. You felt the inertia hit you as he speeded out of the parking lot, entertaining yourself with the landscape changing outside the window.

You could hear the motor’s gears purring, his fingers fiddling with the wheel and AC blowing inside the car. It was just this quiet, after all. The kind of silence you could only hear around Rafayel when he was sad or angry - or both. Still, why?!

You were upset that you made him upset and even more that you couldn’t figure it out. 

Your mind went through all your important dates together - first kiss, anniversary, colleagues’ meetings - you didn’t miss a single one. 

You tried to think of details you could’ve missed - a new haircut, new clothes, a gift he bought for you, some picture he shared online and you forgot to like - but were any of those serious enough to make him mad? Or, better saying, to make him this mad?

You rested your chin on top of your hand, staring at some unknown distance. In the window, you could also see Rafayel’s reflection faintly, translucent. It was still clear enough, however, for you to see a pout on his lips. You stroked his image on the cheek with your index finger, feeling like the worst partner in the world for making him feel like that.

Before you could spiral into any other sad or worried thought, your body gently swung forward and then back into the seat. You blinked, taking notice of your surroundings again and having your eyes met with a familiar scenery: his home.

“What are you doing?” Rafayel asked, not as sweetly as you wished for. You looked up to the reflection, already spotting the features of confusion on his face that you’d meet as soon as you turned around.

“Distracting myself,” you mumbled, your hand leaving the window to reach for the seatbelt’s buckle, unlocking it and freeing yourself. “Nothing to worry abou- Rafayel?”

Now it was your turn to be confused at his actions. Your hand rested on top of the door handle, shaking it just to find that it was still locked. Rafayel stared at you, his lips quivering as if something was about to burst out of them.

But no, it didn’t.

“I… I forgot to unlock it, sorry,” he answered sheepishly, pressing a button near the steering wheel and making a firm, perceptive ‘click’ sound echo inside the car. “Let’s go,” he added, stepping out of the vehicle without looking back this time.

You sighed as soon as the sound of his door closing shut reached your ears, now being kept inside the car by something else other than a locked door: hesitation. 

It’s been at least half an hour since you clocked out of work and you still had no idea what you could possibly do to make up for him. You didn’t even know what you’re supposed to make up for, after all. Blindly apologizing would probably make things worse and, truth to be told, was there anything to apologize for?

You shook your head, taking one last breath to prepare yourself for what would be the start of a long weekend together. If you two made up tonight, you’d still have two days to enjoy each other’s company - you told yourself, trying to look at the brighter side and keep a positive view of this mess.

You lifted your chin from the moment you stepped out of the car to when you met him before his front door. Rafayel still had that blank, emotionless facade that seemed to work as a disguise for a frustrated one.

Silently, he looked down to his keys, opening the door and stepping aside to make way for you to walk in. The living room had that familiar mess that you grew accustomed to. Paintbrushes, canvas, paintings and sketches scattered around from the corner where he usually worked to the part “spared” for welcoming the guests. One would certainly be taken back by the sight - like you once did - but this was nothing but an everyday sight at this point.

“Did you start a new project?” You hummed, kneeling by some discarded pages and checking the sketches on them. As if trying to find a sense behind that mess, you started to tell some similarities between the drawings on each page, as if Rafayel was getting closer to a final product. “Is it a flower? Are you painting a bouquet this time?”

“Not really, just experimenting,” the answer came from the distance as he stopped by the door for a moment. You heard his footsteps approaching and then lifted your head to see him walk past you, straight to the couch on the other side of the large living room. “I don’t really want to talk about work right now…”

“Then let’s talk about something else,” you followed him, your eyes fixed on his figure, “like why you seem upset that I’m here.”

Rafayel looked at you with widened, worried eyes. It was probably the first time he did it in a good while, you thought. “What? Nonsense, why would I be upset at that?” He asked defensively, frowning at the accusation even. “I waited the whole week for this!”

“But that’s not what it looks like,” you retorted, further closing the distance between you two like a predator cornering its prey, “it feels like you’re avoiding me, like you’re spending time with me just because you need to, not because you want it,” you sighed, frustrated, “are you angry? Did I mess up?”

You could see him flinch, realisation over something you were still now aware of dawning on him. “...no, I’m not angry. It’s nothin-”

“Rafayel!” You groaned, sitting back up straight, “so you are ignoring me over nothing? Treating me like that just because?!”

“N-no! That’s not it!”

“Then what is it?!”

He froze in place, his mouth hanging agape like he was choking on the unsaid words. You could tell he was nearly opening up to you, but still stubbornly refusing to do so. “Then what is it, Rafayel?”

“N-nothing, forget it.” He insisted, averting his gaze. “I… I think I will go take a bath an- w-woah!”

“Nuh uh,” you grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down into the couch before he could stand on his feet again, “you’re not going anywhere until we solve this mess.”

“T-there is no mess to solve! It’s all right, ok? Let go!” He cried, shaking his arm, but your hand seemed to be glued to his wrist. You crawled closer to him, making him lean away in hesitation - or fear, one of those.

“I will let go if you tell me what’s wrong.” You weren't going to back down, not when you had him right there. You both were adults and both should know that talking things out is the best way to come to peace with them. “Speak, Rafayel.”

“I-I don’t wanna!” He hissed, already leaning on his side and probably considering the idea of kicking you off the couch. Well, no one can say you didn’t try to solve this like an adult. “H-hey, what are you- ahH!”

With a swift, quick move, you pushed the wrist inside your grip up and pinned it against the couch. Before he could squirm or run away, you straddled his thighs, using your own weight to keep them in place. A strong shade of red started to taint Rafayel’s skin - from his neck up to the tip of his ears - and he looked back and forth between your hand, your face and your body.

“W-what are you doing?!”

“Trying to solve our problems like a kid, since you don’t want to do it like adults do.”

Those words only started to make sense to Rafayel when you got into action. Your free hand quickly assaulted his exposed underarm with rapid, aimless tickles, scratching and tracing random shapes over the clothed skin. 

While you couldn’t tell what was going on inside his head, you could always count on how ticklish Rafayel was to get him to do what you wanted - most of the time, at least. You grinned down at his dumb, desperate smile while you shifted your attention to his ribs, your fingers drumming at them like they were some sort of instrument.

“S-StahAHAhahp ihihit!” He whined, arching his back and pressing his head into the couch. He swatted at your hand with his free one, but it wasn’t close to enough to make you stop. “Gehehet ohohoff me n-now! Or I wihill be vehery angr- aHAHA W-WAHAHaahait!! Nohohot thehEHEhere! PleHEHease! ~”

“Only if you want to talk about it, Rafayel,” you said with minimal-to-no-effort in making your words clear through the laughter echoing in his living room. Still, something about him whining under your fingers made you believe that the message was successfully delivered.

Seconds went by and Rafayel remained silent - silent as in not talking, because he was sure being loud. “Well, suit yourself,” you hummed teasingly, latching your hand onto his hip and letting your thumb drill into the sensitive spot.

Rafayel thrashed his head, his cheeks getting redder from a mix of laughter, anger and embarrassment. He squirmed and wriggled his body as much as he could, moving like a worm in a hook while you continued to pinch and squeeze his hip. “AhAHAHah, q-quihIhihit it, meheheanie!”

“Are you going to talk to me if I do?”

“I-I sahAHAhaid I don’t w-wahahanna tahAHAhalk!!”

“Then keep laughing, at least you’re not frowning at me like this,” you groaned, slapping that pesky hand that tried to protect him away and letting all your frustration out as a merciless, restless tickle assault.

You pressed down at his pinned wrist, making sure it wasn’t going anywhere, and raked your nails around Rafayel’s stomach, clawing just below the belly button, then spidering your fingers up and down his sides. You couldn’t help but chuckle at how weak his tugging at your arm was, drained of any strength to actually pry the assaulting hand away. He was struggling.

“I know you can’t take much more,” you teased, rapidly poking around his abdomen over and over, pinpointing one nerve at the other, “and so do you, right?”

“I-I hahAHahate yohohou!” He cried dramatically and, while part of you decided to tickle him to death and put him out of his misery, you opted for the peaceful approach and gave him another chance. “Y-yohou ahare t-the wohorst bodyguard! In t-the whole world!”

“And because of that you decided to mistreat me all day? Because I suck at being your bodyguard?” You scoffed, sitting back on his lap and crossing your arms.

But while this all seemed like a senseless and light matter to you now, your words acted like fuel to the fire inside him. You could see something inside him snap as he clenched his jaw, his breathing sharpening for a moment.

“No, you- you dumbhead! Because you do this to everyone!” He gasped, panting for a second before his lips turned into a pout. “I- I saw you with your- ugh, your coworker today. I  thought I was special, but I’m just another one to you…”

What.

You couldn’t even hold your pose as something beyond confusion struck your brain like thunder in a roaring storm. “I do… this to everyone..?” You repeated to yourself, trying to find some sense in those words. Did what, exactly?

You looked down, to him and then to your hands that were hanging near your body. Then it dawned on you: the reason behind his attitude, his anger. He was “...jealous? Because I… tickled my friend?” You muttered, your voice tainted with uncertainty.

Any doubts, however, vanished when you saw Rafayel’s face lighting up in red like a firework exploding in the sky. 

His lips quivered, trembled, and even as strangled noises made it past his throat, no actual words came out. He was stunned, baffled by your conclusion and, worse, by his own demands. Rafayel realized a tad too late what he had done, to what kind of thought he gave voice, and he couldn’t even start to think of a way to deal with the consequences.

While you, on the other hand, couldn’t tell what happened inside his head, his face told you everything you needed to know and more, like an open book just before your eyes. “Did I guess it right?” You broke the awkward silence and saw the moment a shiver ran up his spine like a wave crashing against the coast.

“N-no!” He cried, pawing at your legs while you let your weight sit on his lap. He kicked his feet behind you, throwing a little tantrum while rambling something about being misunderstood. “You g-got it totally wrong! I-It’s all wrong!”

“Is that so? Then what did you mean by that, then?” You grinned down at him, finally connecting all the pieces of a whole evening getting the silent treatment. To think he would feel jealous of Tara of all people - how amusing. “Are you saying I did something indecent with my coworker? Implying that I’m a chea-”

“That’s not it either, you- ugh, you’re such a thickhead at times!” He laid back, dramatically gasping and then pressing both hands over his face, almost as if to try to hide it. “How come you solve crimes and I still need to explain everything to you?”

“But you don’t,” you grabbed both his wrists, forcing them to the side and off your way. You towered over him, pinning his hands by the sides of his head staring straight into his eyes. “I have you figured out, Rafayel.”

“...You totally don’t,” he puffed out his cheeks, still trying to play it in denial.

“I totally do, though. My little fishie wants to be tickled, right?” You chuckled, letting go of one of his hands to trace his jawline with your index finger.

“Y-you’re wrong! Awfully wrong!” He gasped after leaving his mouth hanging for a second or two. You could see his muscles tensing, yearning, anticipating something. He pressed his lips into a thin line and clenched his hands into fists, keeping them still at where you left them.

Well… “heh,” you scoffed, your hands moving to his shoulders, giving them a squeeze as if to ease the tension, “don’t worry, I get it now.”

“You don’t get it at ahAH- AHaha, w-wahAHAIT!! I wahAHAhasn’t reheheady!” Rafayel laughed, he crumbled into a hot mess of giggles and squeals before he could even take notice of what you were doing or of what was happening around him.

You nestled your hands by the sides of his chest, digging and tickling each and every single one of his ribs as thoroughly as possible, playing with every inch of skin you couch told and milking every cackle out of his throat. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to do much”, you hummed, seeing him arch his back with a renewed fit of laughter as you switched to his sides, “just keep looking cute and laughing for me, yes?”

Rafayel whined, shaking his head left and right, but you couldn’t really hear a protest coming from his mouth, only that sweet, melodic laughter with a pinch of desperation. You smiled down, allowing him to hold onto your wrists while you tickled his stomach and hips, alternating between them from time to time.

You wiggled your fingers over the thin, delicate shirt and it was just enough to make him giggle; you pressed and poked one of the wrinkles caused by his squirming and he would flail his arms and legs; and when all this moving around riled up his shirt, you scratched the revealed skin, making the cutest sounds burst out of him.

He pulled at your hands, his shaky fingers closing around your wrists or around your palm in a vain attempt of being at least an obstacle in your way. Rafayel flashed you with a wide, panicked grin as he watched your hands sneak back under his arms before he threw his head back into the couch. You could see his chest waving, the deep gasps to let air fill his lungs before burning all that stored-up energy into cries full of mirth. What a sight to behold.

You couldn’t help but find yourself lost at the mesmerizing sight, intoxicated by his laughter, by the sound of his pleas, by the feeling of his hands clinging to you and the squirming of his body under you. 

His hair was already sticking to his forehead and some damp spots were starting to appear in his shirt - around his chest, shoulders, down to his sides and even some under his arm, where your hands would travel back from time to time to tickle him again. Rafayel was starting to look at a mess but, at the same time, this was the prettiest he ever looked to you.

“Stop fighting it,” you said playfully, as if he ever succeeded in putting up a battle against you, as if he ever stood a chance in your game, “you clearly won’t be able to take it if I have to tie you up.”

He whined again, but soon continued to laugh like a helpless idiot. Something about having him like this was mixing up the wires inside your brain, making the gears in your head turn rapidly. You knew you promised that you’d give it to him to his heart’s content, but if this went on for much longer, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to stop yourself.

Rafayel was just a pillow princess at this point. He laid back on the couch, holding onto your hands with just enough strength to pick up a sheet of paper, and let you do all the hard work while he laughed. He laughed, laughed and laughed even more. You wondered what could be going on inside his head or if there was anything happening in there at all.

But the one thing you did know was that… he looked happy. “Had enough yet, baby?” You sighed, watching the dazed, lost look on his face as if you had shut off his brain somehow. “Are you feeling ok?”

He giggled, wasted. It took him three to five business days to lower his head and look up at your face. Your hands rested on top of his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his hardworking heart that seemed to be just about to explode. Well, he certainly did look like he was doing fine, you thought. And so were you, after all, his heart was beating like that for you, because of you. 

You smiled, leaning closer and closer until the tip of your nose brushed against his. You nuzzled against his cheek before dragged your lips over Rafayel’s, kissing it briefly as you muttered your words. “I’m sorry, Rafayel, I think I now understand how you feel,” you gasped, kissing him again.

He let out a small, confused groan into your mouth. His hands weakly pushed at your shoulder while he turned his head to the side to try to dislodge out of your kiss and breathe again. He looked at you with the corner of his eyes, expectation gleaming inside them.

“I will only tickle you for now on, ok? You won’t have to share it with anyone else ever again, fishie,” you giggled, your face inches away from his before you leaned in again to steal another kiss.

“N-not… just tickling,” he gasped, his chin pressing down towards his chest as he looked at you with puppy-like eyes, “anything special… I want to be the only one to do those with you.”

“You have my word,” you nodded, laying your head on his shoulder and somehow getting your arms around him to pull Rafayel into a hug. “Are you still mad at me?”

“No… not anymore,” he chuckled, letting out a content sigh as his body was finally able to catch some rest. That would be the start of a long, but precious weekend.

[strawberriesinbloom]

Late Night Movie Distractions

Zayne/Gender-Neutral Reader

Summary: You and Zayne watch a movie together, but you are far too easily distracted.

Word Count: 1,102

A/N: May or may not be based on a piece of Zayne's dialogue during his home screen interactions...that I haven't been able to get again. 😭 It lowkey makes me think I made it up lmao

This is a tickle fic btw!

~🍓~

The movie blared on the television in front of him, but Zayne paid it no mind. Rather, his focus remained entirely on you, who sat cuddled up next to him on the sofa. Your wide-eyed look and small gasps of surprise at every major plot point were far more interesting than what any movie could provide.

You glanced over at him. If his blatant staring took you aback, you didn’t show it. You grinned and shook the empty bowl in your lap. “More popcorn?” you whispered.

Zayne chuckled and shook his head. “No, thank you.”

He was about to offer to get you some more popcorn when you placed the bowl on the coffee table. He wondered if you only offered because you thought he wanted some. Did you think that was why he was staring? You were such a silly person. 

The main character whispered something to the love interest, and your attention immediately pivoted back to the movie. You placed your hand on Zayne’s thigh and squeezed it in anticipation.

A familiar—yet almost forgotten—feeling jolted up his leg. Zayne twitched, trying to hide his reaction with a small cough. He leaned back against the sofa and crossed his arms in feigned nonchalance.

You grabbed the remote and paused the movie. “Zayne,” you said in an unnervingly sing-songy tone, “are you ticklish?” You placed the remote to the side before cracking your knuckles. Could you be any more obvious?

He cocked his head to the side, ignoring the way his ears burned. “Ticklish? Why would I be ticklish?” He found solace in the fact that you probably couldn’t see his face redden in the dark.

“What kind of question is that?” you asked.

Zayne barely had any time to react before you jabbed him in the side. He twisted to the side and you managed to get another jab in before he was able to grab your wrist. Zayne wanted to revel in this small victory, but that look on your face told him you let him do that.

“Stop,” Zayne said. He didn’t want to say he was pleading, per se, but he didn’t particularly feel like being humiliated today.

You faked a pout. “But, I want to hear you laugh. You’re so serious all the time.” Using your other hand, you dug your fingers into the soft part of his stomach. “You never smile.”

Zayne jerked to the side as he desperately tried to tear your hand off of him. “Is that what you think of me?” he managed to gasp out. He furrowed his eyebrows. He smiled…a bit. Mostly when he was with you.

“Yep.”

He wanted to ask you another question, but something fluttered against his armpits, distracting him. Zayne yanked his arms down and sputtered something incoherent. “Wahahait!” He choked out a laugh. 

Seemingly proud about finding his sweet spot so quickly, you let out a sound of victory. “Never let your guard down.”

“Ahaha! Stahahap! Don’t you dahare! Hahaha…!” Zayne wiggled out of your grip and rolled off the sofa. 

You laughed and simply moved to follow him. You sat on his stomach, effectively pinning him down in place. Zayne’s legs writhed and kicked out from underneath you, but you stayed steady. He could only think about how vicious you were as you lingered in the same spot, spidering your fingers inside his armpits.

“You have such a nice laugh,” you said, “It’s cute.”

In a desperate attempt to get you to stop torturing him, Zayne’s hands clasped onto your sides, just like he would do when you two were kids. He wiggled his fingers, but, interestingly enough, you barely reacted. Instead, you simply pried his hands off of you and pinned them underneath your knees. 

Now, with nothing getting in your way, you drilled your thumbs into Zayne’s underarms. He tossed his head back and cackled. “Hehe…hahah! Stop it! Plehehehease!” 

“Begging already? Come on, Zayne. You’re stronger than this.” Your fingers trailed lower until they were fluttering over his ribs. 

This spot was bad, but thankfully not as bad as his underarms. Zayne bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing, but you were quick to break him. “Mmmhmhmhehehe!” Tears were beginning to cling to his eyelashes, much to his horror. Your prideful grin forced him to squeeze his eyes shut in embarrassment.

Zayne didn’t recall ever being this sensitive, not even when he was a child. He could tell you were thinking the exact same thing. This was humiliating, but you were greedy. He knew you weren’t going to stop until you were satisfied.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh this much,” you said with a tinge of wonder. “I could get used to this.” You returned to targeting Zayne’s armpits, forcing him to squeal. You gasped and excitedly prodded the spot the same exact way. To his despair, he squealed, again. 

“Ehehehe! If you—haha—don’t stop, I’ll—!”

“You’ll what? Use your Evol against me?”

No. No, he would never do that, no matter how desperate he was. “I’ll…! Ahaha!” Zayne was laughing too hard to even get more than a few words in edgewise.

You laughed, but it wasn’t as nefarious this time. In fact, you seemed slightly endeared, which might have been worse, honestly. However, to his relief, you stopped and got off of him. Zayne stayed on the ground for a few seconds to catch his breath before opening his eyes. You were sitting next to him with your head leaning against the sofa.

Zayne sighed, noting the sweat that clung to the back of his shirt. “You’re quite mischievous,” he said, still slightly breathless.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said your laugh was cute,” you hummed.

He sat up and brushed his bangs out of his face. “I didn’t think you were.” He paused for a moment before softly speaking. “I think I smile often.” He was still thinking about your comment earlier. Zayne wasn’t the type to get self-conscious, but he cared about what you thought.

“Really?” you said, grinning, “I’ve never noticed.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re not particularly observant.”

“Hey!”

Zayne shook his head, reaching over to brush a stray piece of lint off of your shoulder. “Would you like to finish the movie?”

You blinked slightly and glanced over at the television screen, where the main characters were still staring lovingly into each other’s eyes. “I completely forgot about the movie,” you admitted before scratching your cheek. “I think we can finish it tomorrow, though.”

Zayne smirked. “Did you have another activity in mind?” 

“Maybe,” you said, moving to pinch his cheek.

[ticklygiggles]

Kitten | Sylus x fem!reader [n$fw]

A/N: Wonderful PPY ( @ppystkposts ) and I decided to do a little exchange thingy 🤭❤️ she asked for this fic with Sylus~ I hope it meets your expectations, love! ❤️

Disclaimer: he's probably a bit ooc, but after recent events I can only see him like a softie 😩

Summary: Sylus is... frustrated.

Words: 5k (is this my longest fic????)

Monday

Waking up to the intoxicating scent of your neck had become Sylus's new normal. He'd grown irritable on mornings without you by his side, but today, you were snuggled up against his chest, nesting yourself in his arms, and your presence was a warm comfort that made his heart skip a beat… but you were cutting off circulation to his arm. 

Sylus tried to adjust himself to relieve the tingling sensation that spread from his fingertips to his shoulder, but no matter how he moved, he couldn't free his arm.

“Kitten,” he whined, his voice husky from sleep. “Kitten, move your big head, please.” He tried pushing your forehead with a single finger, but you simply whined in your sleep and tightened your hold around his waist, nuzzling more into his bare chest.

He groaned, tilting his head back. That was it. He was definitely gonna lose his arm. 

“Sweetie, move!” He tried again, his eyes catching a glimpse of your bare waist and a smirk quickly pulled at the corners of his mouth. 

The warm tips of his fingers brushed across your soft skin, drawing little zigzags and circles across your side, from your hip all the way up to your ribs. A soft chuckle escaped his lips when he saw the goosebumps covering the path his fingers followed, chasing after them as you squirmed and pressed more into him. 

A deep, malicious chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Does that tickle?” He asks, teasing.

“No. It feels nice~,” you answered, smiling as you snuggled closer to him.

Sylus widened his eyes. “Wait- were you awake? Move your head!” 

Your giggles made his heart dance funnily as you finally lifted your huge head, the blood flowing again, making him wince in pain.

Tuesday

As much as he wanted to be attached to your side 24/7, he still had work to do. In his office, while you were carelessly playing on your phone on his couch as if you owned the place, he pretended to work, but in reality he looked at you with adoration. Following the curves of your body with his ruby eyes and licking his lips when he looked at your face... your irresistible lips that- 

“Caw!” 

His eyebrow twitched in exasperation as that damn bird fluttered right in front of his face. 

“Mephisto,” he nearly growled. “What on earth do you- huh?” 

Something falling slowly from Mephisto's beak caught his attention as the crow flew to sit on your shoulder. He blinked and took what Mephisto had left as a gift: a red feather. Sylus frowned, where the hell had Mephisto gotten this from? 

He sighed, but didn't think much of it as he fiddled with the feather between his fingers. The touch was soft. The feather was a little stiff, but when it ran against his skin he felt a very pleasant tickle. 

Suddenly, an idea came to his mind and an evil smile spread across his lips. Sylus chuckled and stood up from his chair, heading to the leather couch where you were still playing comfortably, stroking Mephisto's beak without paying much attention. 

Sylus dropped his weight beside you, gently placing your bare feet on his lap.

“Are you done?” You asked with your nose almost glued to the screen as your thumbs tapped all over it.

Sylus hummed, his hands moving to grab one of your feet, giving it a tight squeeze before pressing his thumbs against your sole, massaging it. “I'm taking a break.” 

You hummed, barely paying him any attention, just as he expected. Smirking to himself, Sylus pulled out the red feather; he twirled it between his fingers momentarily before the tip gently swept under your toes. 

He looked over at you and you were looking back at him over the edge of your phone, he grinned. 

“What do you have there?” You asked, arching an eyebrow. 

“Mephisto gave me a feather, do you like it, kitten?” He showed you the plume and you eyed it without interest. 

You shrugged your shoulders, your attention coming back down to your phone. “Yeah, it's pretty, I guess.” 

“Does it tickle?” He asked as the feather tickled your toes again, he frowned when your digits didn't even flinch under the soft touch. 

“Hmm, I think it feels nice. It's not ticklish,” you answered nonchalantly and his frown deepened. 

Sylus kept tickling your toes, under and in-between them. He even swirled the feather around the ball of your foot and the arch and heel, but it was like he was tickling a dead body. No response at all.

He growled in exasperation and got up. “I'll come back to work. Rest is over.”

“Hurry up, Onychinus Leader!” You claimed, not even looking at him. “I'm starting to get hungry!” 

What a spoiled brat.

Wednesday

“Okay, now, Boss, left foot green!” Kieran said cheerfully and Sylus growled deep in his throat as he had to reach all the way over your body to touch the green dot. 

“Sweetie, we could do more interesting things,” he said, his breath making your hair move, close to your ear.

“Miss!” Luke chirped. “Left foot green!” 

“They're not even using the board,” you said, and Sylus rolled his eyes when you ignored him. “We've been moving the same part to the same color for like five rounds now. That's cheating.” 

Sylus huffed. “You're the only one that would trust the twins to be rightful during your silly games. Name one where they didn't cheat,” he dared you and chuckled at your silence. 

“Right hand yellow, Boss!” 

Sylus huffed. This game had stopped being fun by the second round; his leg felt like it was going to cramp and his left hand was shaking, holding all of his weight. He was getting tired of this. 

Just as he was reaching over the yellow dot, his fingers accidentally brushed the skin of your side where your shirt had risen up a bit. He noticed how goosebumps flourished where he just touched and a smirk pulled at his lips. 

He cupped your waist and he chuckled when you jumped. His fingers started to scribble your flesh and he thought he'd hear your sweet, desperate giggle right away, but instead he felt a sharp pain on his side where you had elbowed him. 

“Are you trying to cheat too, Sylus?” You asked and he frowned, tickling your waist with more purpose, but you didn't even flinch. 

“Boss, tickling is not fair! You're gonna get a penalty!” Luke said and both twins started to giggle. 

Giving up in his attempt to tickle you, again, he sighed and reached over the yellow dot, but he had tired his other hand and his arm bent, making him fall over you with a loud thud. 

“Ack! I'm being crushed!” You cried while the twins laughed their heads off. 

“Good,” Sylus said, holding some of his weight with his arms. “Maybe this way you'll stop making me play stupid games.”

“Sylus! Get off! You're heavy!”

Thursday 

What was going on? Why didn't you laugh whenever he tickled you? Were you trying to hold back? Were you embarrassed of your laughter? No, that's not it, you certainly don't hold yourself back when you cry of laughter watching funny videos on your phone. 

Then what- 

“Sylus!” He was brought back to reality by your voice, looking up from the paper in his hands, his eyes quickly found you. He raised his eyebrows slightly as he watched you with both arms raised above your head trying to reach a book, dancing on your tiptoes.

He chuckled and lazily got up from his chair and only when he was right behind you, he realized your vulnerable position and a side smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. 

He flexed his fingers and then brought them under your arms. He wiggled his fingertips into your warm skin, almost viciously, so sure he'd have you laughing your head off in seconds, but soon realized he was wrong. Again.

“What on earth are you doing, Sylus? I'm trying to get that book! Help me, please!” You said, still stretching as best as you could. 

Sylus let out a sigh and he easily grabbed the book and gave it to you. 

“Whao, thank you, Sylus!” 

Well, it was worth it to see that sweet smile as you walked away with it. 

Friday

Okay, this was simply stupid. Absurd. Ridiculous.

What was he doing wrong? Why weren't you cackling your beautiful head off when he tickled you? Was he being too rough? He tickled you with a feather, didn't he? 

Well, he really shouldn't be surprised, he wasn't ticklish himself, but it was simply impossible you weren't ticklish somewhere, wasn't it? 

No. He was having none of that. 

He left everything he was doing, (fixing poor Mephisto), and rushed with long strides towards the bedroom. 

The darkness outside seemed to penetrate the room from the floor-to-ceiling window, the walls absorbing the darkness that was extinguished a little by the warm light of the lamps and the chimney. Sylus stopped by the doorway, breathless as he saw you lying on the bed. His record player was on and the melody was like a wave gently sliding over the sand. He recognized it immediately: ‘La Mer’ by Claude Debussy.

His gaze fell on you, lying face down right in the center of his huge bed, your legs curled up, heels intertwined and your hands holding your head up while you read. His breath hitched when he noticed you were wearing one of his black shirts. 

Sylus had given you countless pajamas of the highest quality and the softest and freshest of fabrics but you always preferred to wear his shirts. It clearly didn't bother him, on the contrary, it always made his heart skip a beat. 

You finally raised your head and looked at him curiously, tilting your head to the side like a little bird. "Is something wrong, Sylus?" 

He walked over to you, his gaze fixed on the way his shirt clung to your curves, making his heart pound with growing anticipation. He sat beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. 

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow and he resisted the urge to kiss you as his hands positioned themselves near your hips. You followed his every move, making him feel almost nervous. The soft satin allowed his fingers to slide easily from your hips to just below your arms, and then down, all the way to the back of your knees. 

You shuddered under his touch and his eyes, bright with excitement, looked at you. His mischievous smirk widened when he saw that you were smiling.

“What are you doing?" You asked with a gleam in your eyes that he couldn't quite figure out what it meant. 

“I'm tickling you,” he said as a matter of fact, wiggling his fingers against your waist and you giggled, but he knew it wasn't because it tickled. 

“Ah, that you're doing, hmm?” He watched you rise up onto your knees and turn to face him, your hands resting on his shoulders, your beautiful face dangerously close to his. 

Sylus instinctively grabbed your waist and squeezed it slightly as he looked into your eyes, you were smiling. Smirking. 

"You've been trying to get a reaction out of me this entire week, haven't you?” You leaned against his ear, your lips brushing against his soft skin. “Do you perhaps have a tickle kink?” Your voice was a whisper, Sylus barely heard you over the melody that began to reach a point of dynamism that somehow made him nervous. 

He let your words sink in and make sense before letting out a humorless chuckle, rolling his eyes. 

“That doesn't exist.” 

You laughed. “Then why do you keep trying to tickle me? Do you like to be in control? Or perhaps… you wanted me to tickle you back~?” You were suddenly on top of him, pinning him to the bed, straddling his hips. His large hands settled on your thighs, just below the hem of his shirt.

Your tongue lightly teased the hole of his ear and he shuddered, his ear flushing as your lips moved down along his sharp jawline. 

“I'm not ticklish,” he answered breathlessly, something swirling inside his chest and wrapping around his heart.

“Hmm~,” Your light hands placed themselves flat against his stomach and he arched his back as you pressed them against his body, sliding them up to his chest. Sylus let out a ragged breath. “Is that so?” 

Sylus' heart was pounding against his ribcage, he wondered if you could feel it under your hands. The melody that filled the room had left that sensation of seeing the waves lazily crashing against the shore. Now it seemed like he was standing in front of a violent sea, huge waves almost engulfing him completely, drowning him into the unknown.

He gulped as your fingertips dragged down against his sides, a gasp escaped his lips and he squirmed, arching his back. You giggled and his eyes, open widely, immediately looked up at you.

“Not ticklish, hmm?” He let out another gasp as your playful touch traveled back up towards his chest, and his hand grabbed yours. 

It was his mistake to always forget how strong his kitty truly was, and in the blink of an eye, his arms were above his head, wrists one over the other as your delicate hand held them tightly, pressing them against the mattress. 

Sylus groaned, his back arching again as another giggle reached your lips. 

“Why are you so frisky, Sylus? Didn't you just say you weren't ticklish?” 

He wasn't. Or so he thought. But right now he felt the effervescent sensation of giggles bubbling in his throat at your gentle touch, making him want to crawl out of his skin. 

“No-!” He said, jerking to the side when your hand sneaked under his sweater, your fingertips teasing his warm skin. 

As the back of your nails lightly scratched the curve of his waist, he managed to free his wrists from your hold and he wrapped his hands around your waist, but heavens, what kind of training did you go through?! In a moment, Sylus found himself pressed back down against the bed, this time face down, with one of his arms held behind his back and your hand spidering up his side.

He bit the inside of cheek, trying to hold back the laughter threatening to escape. He couldn't understand what was going on. Why was he feeling so… sensitive? Your fingers felt like hundreds of feathers caressing his side, making him want to shriek.

As he felt the touch lingering on his hip, a gasp escaped his lips and then laughter– no, embarrassing giggles poured out like a broken faucet. He kicked his legs and tried to catch your hand with his free one, but quickly found it impossible since your tickly hand moved from one spot to the other in a flurry, making him jump and squeal at every sudden touch. 

“S-Stohohop! I'm seheherious!” He laughed, nearly cackling when you repeatedly poked at the back of his ribs. 

You giggled. “Oh? Why should I? You said you weren't ticklish, this certainly doesn't bother you, right?” 

Oh you were so evil. Sylus felt a sudden heat assaulting his cheeks and ears and he hid his face against the soft blankets, muffling his laughter.

“None of that,” you singsang and he was suddenly flipped onto his back again, manhandled until both your hands were under his sweater, which was slowly lifting up with his squirming as both your hands worked around his torso. 

Sylus was laughing. Jerking and squirming and tossing his head side to side as his hands weakly tried to make you stop. It had been a long time since he felt so out of control. Who in their right mind would even think of treating the Leader of Onichynus like that? Who would even think of tickling the most important man in the N109 Zone? There was only one person in the world who would do it and boy was that person enjoying it. 

Sylus opened one of his tightly shut eyes to look at you and he regretted it right away. You were smiling almost viciously, watching all of his reactions with hunger in your eyes, as if you had been waiting for that moment for a long time, and Sylus had no doubt that this was the case.

You probably enjoyed all these recent days of him trying to make you laugh out of your head, and failing like an idiot. Had you planned all of this from the beginning? Were you expecting him to confront you about it? Sylus didn't doubt it. He had dug his own grave this time and yet... he found it strangely exciting. Thrilling. 

“Tch, stop that,” you said, your brow furrowing as he tried to lower his sweater. 

“K-Kihihitten, s-stop- ack!” 

He didn't– he couldn't fight back as you lifted the hem of his sweater over his head, successfully trapping his arms up, leaving him completely exposed. He gulped, looking at you with almost despair. The smirk on your lips only seemed to widen as your eyes marvelled over his body.

“You look so hot right now, Sylus,” you purred. “Especially when you laugh for me~” 

His breath hitched as your fingers hovered over his torso as if you were deciding where to strike next.

“Sweetie,” he mumbled, his voice deep, but laced with something he did not dare to name. “You're playing with fire. You had your fun and it's time for you to s-s-stohop–,” he gasped. “N-Nohoho!” 

“Were you saying something, Sylus?” Sylus arched his back and laughed as your fingers scribbled against his exposed armpits. Fingernails skittering against the sensitive skin, so maddeningly calculated, he couldn't stop himself from bucking. 

He jolted a little when he suddenly heard your giggle into his ear. Your tongue followed the curve of the cartilage and then hooked under his earlobe sucking at it momentarily before your voice filled his ear canal. 

“Tickle, tickle, tickle, Sylus~” 

A deep blush bloomed across Sylus’s cheeks as he laughed uncontrollably. His arms twisted, trying to break free from the imprisonment created by his own sweater. Your fingernails raked up and down his pits, first gently, almost lovingly, but then lethally, making him throw his head back with loud laughter.

He never thought he could laugh that loud, the muscles of his sides and stomach were getting sore already and he felt his eyes acting funny, were they tearing up? 

“Hmm~ Onychinus Leader truly is ticklish~” You said as your tickling fingers finally let his armpits have a break as they moved over his collarbones, teasing the sides of his neck that only made him let out hummy giggles. 

Your fingers traveled across his chest and a startled burst of laughter escaped his lips when your fingertips brushed against his nipples. His eyes widened as he looked up at you.

“Oh?” You grinned just like a little demon.

“No!” He warned, but it was too late. Sylus shrieked, shivering all over as your long nail started to scritch-scratch at his hardening nipples.

Why did that tickle?! His flush deepened as he laughed and squirmed, his legs kicking behind you and his cock– oh goodness. 

“Oh?” You purred again and Sylus whined, letting out a soft groan when you sat on his hardening dick. “What's this? Someone's enjoying his tickles? I told you you had a tickle kink~” 

“Thahat's n-not ihit!” He really hoped it wasn't it.

“So it's not it?” 

Sylus arched his back, laughing as you teased the little buds with the feather-like touch of your fingertips. He could feel the soft tickle scribbling all around them, but nearly bucked off the bed when you tickled the very top with fluttery fingers. He tried to ignore his own moans escaping between laughter and also your mischievous giggle that made his stomach do somersaults. 

“Stohohop nohohow!” He laughed, little tears of laughter clinging to his long lashes. 

“Hmm, already? I'm just starting though…” 

“Nohoho!” Sylus squealed like a pig when you traced his ribs, staring from the lowest to the highest and back down and then back up. 

His skin covered in goosebumps and he let out a vibrant cackle as your fingers spidered down to his stomach. His eyes widened and he sucked on his belly, shaking his head. 

“Aha! So this is your weak spot? How adorable of you, Mr. Sylus.” 

Sylus nearly laughed in hysterics as you formed two claws with your hands and let all your fingers poke him around his tummy repeatedly. 

“N-Nohoho! AHAHAHA! S-Sweehehetie! NOHOT THEHERE!” 

Scribbling on the sides of his belly, tracing his abs, clawing at the middle of his stomach; tracing the rim of his belly button and then wiggling your finger inside it– Sylus was losing his mind. 

He cackled loudly, squirming all around and about, begging for mercy as his voice started to get hoarse from laughing so hard. 

He was nearly double your size, he could easily pick you up with one single arm, and yet, he was laughing desperately, hysterically, as your fingers tickled his stomach as if your life depended on it. No matter what you did, he couldn't get used to the maddening sensation and his ticklishness only seemed to increase the more you pursue his weak spots, like his lower stomach. 

“OKAHAHAY! OKAY!” He cried, tilting his head back and tossing it from side to side. “AHAHANYWHERE BUT THEHEHERE!” 

“Fuck, Sylus.”

He wasn't sure you actually said that– he could barely hear anything besides his own hysteria, but his cock twitched inside his pants for some reason, as if he wasn't dying of laughter. As if he didn't only fell more hopeless and helpless as you kept tickling his damn stomach. 

“Our poor Sylus has a ticklish tummy?” And that damn teasing, he couldn't stand it! “Poor little Onychinus Leader. What would people say if they new only a few tickles to his belly were enough to have him begging for mercy~” 

You were the devil, he was sure of it. He was dating the devil himself and this devil had found her favorite diversion. 

“You're doing so well, though,” you continued, your nails tickling his lower tummy. “Taking your tickles so well, doesn't it feel so good? Hmm?”

“PLEHEHEASE!” He begged breathlessly, his laughter fading away every now and then, simply leaving him shaking silently. “KIHIHITTEN! PLEHEHEASE!” 

“Please what?” You said, your fingers finding a rhythm poking and scribbling around his lower stomach that really had him howling in hysteria. “Tickle you more or… tickle you less?” 

“Less,” he babbled as tears fell down the sides of his face and a bit of spit escaped from the corner of his mouth. 

He was a complete mess. Flushed in the face and pathetically hard as he finally laughed in complete silence when your attention gravitated back to his belly button. 

“Oh? Are you laughing yourself silly, Sylus?” He nodded, what else could he do? “Oh poor thing, does it tickle too much?” Another weak nod and a terrible loud snort from his nose that had you giggling. “Should I give you a break?” Yes please. Please. Please. 

“Ah!” He finally was able to inhale enough air as your fingers stopped their torture. He collapsed on the bed, gasping for air as his heart thundered against his ribs and he let out residual laughter. 

“Y-you're the worst, s-sweetie,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Hmm? Am I really?” You asked with a sweet, sultry voice that made him whimper. “Because–”

“Nghh!” 

“– this little friend of yours seems to really enjoy the attention,” you said, your finger teasingly tracing the outline of his hard cock and Sylus moaned, jerking his hips.

“S-Stohop… I c-can't take it a-anymore,” he begged, his hips humping slightly and you laughed. 

“Liar,” you said and your deft fingers unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants in a flash. You tugged them down along with his underwear, freeing his bouncing cock and gathering his clothes by his ankles. 

Sylus watched you place yourself back between his legs, his big thighs squeezing around your waist as you caressed them gently, drawing little figures with your fingers. 

He couldn't lie, he was afraid. He didn't know– he had no idea you were like this. He didn't know how ruthless you could be. Always smiling at him with your sweet smile and laughing at him when he started singing. He had no idea that you had a dark side. 

He flinched as your fingers lightly moved towards his cock, his body tensed in anticipation, mouth open, letting out ragged breaths. 

“You want to cum?” You asked and your smirk made him shiver. 

He shook his head. “N-No- hah,” he gasped when he saw your eyes darkening. “Y-Yes…” 

“Too late,” you said and you wrapped one hand around his cock. “I'll do exactly what you asked~”

Sylus's cock throbbed and jerked as he felt your soft hand wrap around his thick, hard shaft. Your fingers barely met around his girth, and he had to grit his teeth against the urge to buck his hips up into your touch.

“F-Fuck! Ngh!” Your hand started to stroke his hard shaft, steadily but rhythmically, finding a pace that had him groaning as your hand squeezed his cock just right and your thumb brushed against the sensitive head of his dick, smearing the precum leaking from the tip. 

Sylus huffed, sighed and moaned as pleasure started to build up in his lower belly. He squirmed slightly, his arms still fighting against his own sweater. 

“Does that feel so good, Sylus?” You purred and Sylus widened his eyes when he felt your warm, humid breath against the tip of his cock. He looked down to see your lips were mere inches away from the crown of his dick. 

“Nnghh, please k-kitten,” he cried, jerking his hips to fuck himself up into your hand. “D-Don’t…” 

“Don't tell me what to do,” you warned and Sylus nearly saw stars when your tongue dragged over the swollen head of his cock. 

He tilted his head back and moaned deeply as you lapped all his precum, the taste of his arousal exploding in your mouth. Sylus's stomach tensed and his hips thrust at the rhythm of your licking and the pumping of your hand. 

“A-Ah, kitten,” he gasped, circling his hips. “W-Wait, pl-please.”

“Do not tell me what to do,” you repeated and closed your mouth around the head of his cock. Sylus’ moan was almost primal as you suck softly at the tip, as you would a lollipop. 

His thighs squeezed your body and he cried with pleasure when your tongue flickered against the slit. Sweet shudders of pleasure made his limbs and insides tremble and shake. His breathing quickened and his body started to tense with the eminence of his release. 

“Haah! Ah! N-Ngh! K-Kihitten! I'm-” 

“Oh, I'm sorry,” you said, stopping just as he was teetering over the edge, and Sylus whined. “I forgot you said you didn't want to cum.”

Oh you truly were so evil. 

“Kitten, I fucking swear, why are you- haah! AHAHAHA!” 

Sylus shrieked as your fingers scribbled and wiggled against the sweet spot in the inner part of his thighs. Your fingers latched to that weak muscle near his groin that had him arching his spine and throwing his head back. 

His strong legs squeezed you and you giggled, tickling him faster. 

“STAHAHAP!” He cackled, his hips jerking as he foolishly kept trying to reach his ruined orgasm, but it was all useless, he couldn't even concentrate because of the damn tickles to his thighs. 

He screamed your name, trying to sound intimidating. “Fuhuhucking s-stohohop!” He gritted his teeth, refusing to give you the satisfaction of seeing him laughing any more, but a quick scribble to the middle of his stomach was enough to have him nearly in stitches. 

For how long have you been doing this? He certainly felt it had been ages, millennia of insane, hysterical laughter. When he thought there was no more laughter left in him, your fingers would move in a certain way in a place no one had ever touched before and he would realize, much to his horror, that he could still laugh, even harder.

“Does it tickle, Sylus?” You teased as he was sent into another hysterical fit of silent laughter as your fingers abused that muscle in his inner thighs. “You're loving it, right? Otherwise why would you be so hard? It's a shame you don't want to cum, I bet that'd be wonderful, don't you think?” 

Shut up! Please, stop! Don't fucking touch me! He wanted to scream, but deep inside he knew it was hypocritical of him to do so. He could easily get you off of him with his Evol, but he fooled himself into thinking he couldn't concentrate because of the tickling. He could unload the sweater around his arms, but he brainwashed himself, saying it was his favorite sweater. 

He was simply taking it, laughing and getting hard over it. 

“I told you you have a tickle kink~,” you purred and that was enough for Sylus. 

Oh fuckfuckfuckfuck!

Sylus's eyes rolled inside his skull and his head tilted back with a hoarse cry as his orgasm crashed over him like a tidal wave. His cock jerked and throbbed violently into the air, nothing around it as he pumped thick ropes of hot and sticky cum. 

Sylus groaned, his hips rocking as he rode his orgasm and the aftershocks rushed up his body. He sobbed, teary eyes opening to look at you and he whimpered when he saw your big shit-eating smirk. 

“Did you enjoy yourself, kitten?” You asked, one of your hands back to his inner thighs and the other to his stomach to start tickling him again.

This tickling was indescribable, nothing like what he felt before… he was lost in a tickle subspace and you were the only one that could possibly bring him back– the same person that threw him into it with a smirk and sweet giggles bubbling past your lips. 

What had he gotten himself into? 

[starmocha]

from osmanthus to snowdrop

[Zayne/Reader ★ 16.2K words ★ Masterlist ★ Snowdrop Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] “Might already be carrying my baby,” he continued, “You like this thought, don’t you?” chapters ★ one | two | three | four | five tag list: beneath cut 【 request to be added 】

A/N: Sometimes you let your intrusive thoughts win and casually mention, "hey, what if sweet little baby Snowdrop from my toddler series was conceived from Zayne and MC's brat taming and breeding session" and your followers enabled you....... THIS IS THEIR FAULT (I love you guys, pls keep enabling me and my shenanigans 🥺💖) Inspired by two past blurbs I had written: “Afternoon Lessons” and “Lesson Learned (?)”. You can also follow the madness that is the Snowdrop Conception Fic to see how far down the rabbit hole I was yeeted into. Anyway. Chapter 1 of 5. Updated whenever I fancy. Bye. 💖

You almost wished the honeymoon period would never end, feeling like this time alone with Zayne was truly special. The wedding had been five months earlier, and as expected, many people were surprised that there was no immediate baby announcement.

You had heard some hushed whispers, seen the curious looks in their eyes, but of course, it would be so rude of them to walk straight up to you or Zayne and start asking questions. It wasn’t any of their business, really.

Truthfully, the topic of family had come up between you and Zayne prior to the marriage. Zayne, as always, wanted to be prepared, to make sure there was no miscommunications or misconception between the two of you. It was so long ago, so you couldn’t quite remember who had initiated the conversation first.

It was probably during one of those late nights in bed together. The world was quiet and a comforting stillness settled, and you had laid with him, enjoying each other’s warmth. Even in the worst calamity ever, Zayne’s presence always seemed to ground you, bringing you peace and comfort. You had hoped you were the same for him, wanting to offer him the same serenity he had always brought to you and be the sanctuary he needed when the world wore him down.

Now after marriage came the baby carriage, but it didn’t mean it had to happen immediately, you had thought, or even at all. Babies were still the furthest things from your mind, as there were other important matters in your life you had valued more. You had your career, your youth and time, and also your new husband. You wanted to enjoy these first few months as newlyweds with your husband, keeping this fleeting precious private time to just the two of you.

It didn’t mean you did not occasionally enjoy indulging in the idea of having a baby with him. In fact, you knew Zayne was particularly turned on by the notion of impregnating you with his baby. You had seen it in the way he would sometimes caress your flat belly, and over time, you were the one who experimented with treading that fine line, learning for yourself just how much this aroused him.

As it turned out, you also enjoyed this, too. You loved the very idea of him leaving you with a part of him to carry, something permanent to bind you and him together for life. The idea of being pregnant with his child would also be, in a way, an open display of not only his love for you, but a possessive hold he had.

Of course, sweet as he was, Zayne would never pressure you into having a baby if you weren’t ready yet. Thankfully, you were on birth control, so at the very least, you were able to indulge in his fantasy a little, keep him satiated in a way only you could.

The sweet honeymoon period seemed so endless, like it could last forever and ever as you both basked in marital bliss together. You enjoyed this intimate period alone with Zayne, waking up in bed with him, catching a late lunch together from time to time, or getting whisked away for a last-minute weekend getaway. You enjoyed moments like those, getting lost together with him in new cities, gorging on delicious meals and pastries with him, and curled up in bed with him, enjoying each other’s company, whispering sweet nothings, and lazing away together as if all of the time in the world was yours and yours alone.

Alone with him. Together with him.

Everything about this time with him was so romantic and exhilarating, feeling like your own private movie where you two starred in the leading roles of your very own love story. You couldn’t imagine wanting any of this to end, or anything to disrupt this time between you and him.

Everything was perfect as is.

Then, one day, as you and Zayne sat eating Sunday brunch together at a bistro in downtown Linkon City, you noticed a baby at the next table. She still seemed fairly young, though you weren’t familiar enough with such young children to even guess how old she was. The baby’s parents, however, were about the same age as you and Zayne, you noted. They looked like new parents taking their little one out for the first time since she was born.

They looked so overjoyed. You couldn’t help but admired the beautiful couple and their baby. There was something charming about this new family. The couple seemed so enthralled and enamored with their little one, delighting in every movement and every expression shown no matter how miniscule or innocuous they seemed to other bystanders. To them, she was their whole universe.

You vaguely wondered if such parental love was common, an instinctive nature that would come along in time. To love someone this young so immensely, you wondered if later in life when you and Zayne had your own little family, would this same love come so naturally to you?

Unknowingly, you were smiling along, startling only when the baby appeared to notice you and gurgled happily, her little arm reaching out for you from a table away.

Unconsciously, you smiled back as sweet as you could, and gave a little wave.

“Who are you waving at?” Zayne’s voice broke your trance.

“Ah—” You blushed in embarrassment at being caught, and lowered your arm, redirecting your attention to your perplexed husband. His brows furrowed in confusion, head tilted a little, as he waited for your response. You picked up your fork and poked at the soft-boiled egg on your plate, breaking its yolk and watching it smeared over your arugula salad. Shrugging, you took a bite of your meal, answering him after swallowing, “That baby at the next table was smiling at me.”

He discreetly peered at the table behind him, catching a glimpse of the couple getting ready to leave after paying for their meal. The baby also appeared to notice him over her father’s shoulder, and she reached out for Zayne, giggling and gurgling happily at him.

He chuckled and gave her a soft smile, also instinctively waving at her with just his fingers. He turned back to you with gentle eyes, commenting, “She’s cute.”

You beamed at him. “Did you see that adorable little dress she was wearing? She has such chubby little legs, I want to bite—why are you laughing at me?”

Zayne covered his mouth, suppressing his chuckles, but you could still see the twinkle of amusement in his beautiful hazel eyes. He apologized with a smile, reaching across the table for your hand. You felt his thumb brushing over your fingers as he responded to you, “You’ve never spoken about children in such a way.”

“What way? What do you mean?” You frowned in confusion.

“That is…” He seemed to hesitate with his explanation, causing you to urge him to finish his thought. With a sigh, he resumed, speaking carefully, “One might… assume you were interested.”

“Interested?”

“Having a baby.”

“O-Oh…” Your cheeks pinked in embarrassment. Suddenly, this bistro seemed so much warmer than it was earlier. With Zayne’s steady gaze still on you, you tried to maintain your composure, though the words he had just planted in your head made you more flustered than you realized. “I mean… that is going to happen eventually. We’ve talked about it before.”

He nodded in understanding. “I hope you don’t think I am seizing this as an opportunity to bring this discussion back into the picture?”

“No, no, of course not,” you reassured him. “It just… hit me suddenly.”

“Hm?”

You averted your gaze with him, shifting your sight back down to your plate of food, but suddenly you weren’t that interested in the meal anymore. Your free hand held a fork as you poked at the avocado on your plate. Zayne didn’t rush your response, but you couldn’t help but still felt a pressure looming over you, and you pondered over your words before you gathered your courage to speak more openly with him, “What if… we do circle back to this topic?”

“Are you suggesting…?”

“Zayne, I—I think I’m ready to try for a baby,” you said quickly in one breath, your cheeks getting even hotter now. You could hear him breathed in quickly, his hand still holding yours tightened, his thumb brushing over your fingers faster.

When Zayne didn’t say anything, you mustered up your courage and glanced up, your heart beating faster when you saw the smile on his face. There was a dark gleam in his eyes, and you could practically see the wheels spinning in his head.

“We should… discuss this more at home tonight,” he said, voice lowered. You could almost hear a rasp in his voice, his suggestive tone nearly made you tremble in anticipation for the night, sensing there would actually be very little words exchanged between you both.

During the mostly silent drive home, there was a tension not quite different from when you and Zayne had first dated a few years ago. After leaving the bistro earlier in the day, you could hardly remember what you and Zayne did during your city outing, having been distracted all day by the conversation you both were planning on having later tonight.

Likewise, it felt like Zayne was just as distracted as you were. Throughout the day, he had responded with only monosyllable words, or sometimes he had just made a short noise either affirming or otherwise. Normally so quick-witted and sharp-tongued, today his mind appeared to be elsewhere as he went through the motions of the afternoon. The most shocking behavior change that you recalled from your husband, however, was his refusal to stop by a dessert shop for a treat or to buy something to bring home.

There was a sweeter treat Zayne had his eyes on. It had occupied his mind from the moment you had told him you were ready to have a baby. The dream future he had been waiting on was just within reach, and knowing you were ready to head down this path with him had him more elated than he would have ever thought possible.

With his eyes on the road, Zayne kept one hand on your thigh while the other gripped the steering wheel. You felt the way Zayne was rubbing along your thigh, occasionally squeezing, not even noticing his own actions until he heard your soft surprised gasp.

He apologized immediately, ears tinging red, almost unnoticeable with the sky darkening as the sun set.

“It’s alright,” you told him, though your heart was picking up speed and there was a coil forming in your belly. You placed your hand over his restless one, squeezing him back in reassurance.

As you silently consoled him, you felt your own nerves going haywire. You had opened a gate today, and though you knew Zayne would always let you have the final say whenever you wanted, always giving you room to back out if ultimately you changed your mind, you wondered if that was even something you needed to consider.

You loved Zayne. You wanted a family with him someday. That much you were sure of, so maybe, you wondered, that ‘someday’ had perhaps arrived today.

You peeked at his side profile, admiring his handsome sharp features. Unwittingly, you pictured a little mini-him. A mini-Zayne.

Without realizing it, you started to smile, delighting in the image forming in your mind. Zayne was so good with children. The children at Akso Hospital adored him. He may seem cold to most people at first, but to those willing to approach him, they would see how truly warm and caring he was, always prioritizing others before himself.

You knew in your heart the depths of his love would know no bounds for his child.

Along with the smooth drive home, the anxiety you were feeling earlier ebbed away the more you pondered over this. You still felt a sense of nervousness, knowing that he and you were going to embark down a path that would change the course of your lives forever. It would no longer be just the two of you, but perhaps, there was a different kind of joy, a new adventure awaiting you both in the future.

You and him and your little one.

You smiled softly, letting your mind drift further away as you watched the scenery passed by outside the car window.

The sun disappeared over the horizon, the last streaks of purple and orange giving way to twinkling stars as the car made a turn into your neighborhood. Streetlamps lit up one by one, lighting the way home down the quiet, near vacant road.

Once Zayne pulled into the driveway, you both exited the car, entering the dark house silently. Before you could even turn on the lights, Zayne grabbed your wrist, twirling you around and pinning you to the nearest wall. Your eyes widened in surprise when he gripped both of your wrists with one hand, holding them above your head as he leaned forward, his head bent lower to meet your gaze.

“Zayne—”

His lips crashed upon yours, swallowing your voice as he kissed you feverishly with only a few words slipping out in between.

“My baby…” he husked, breaking away just long enough to look at you, to search for any lingering doubts in your eyes, “Are you sure… you’re ready?”

Your heart beat faster again, cheeks flushed from his earlier intense kisses. You didn’t think he was going to be this impatient with circling back to this topic, having expected a more composed conversation on the couch or perhaps seated across one another at the dining table. Instead, whatever thoughts Zayne had been mulling over during the silent drive home had reached its peak and he was no longer willing to drag out this conversation another second.

“Yes… Yes,” you responded.

Your words didn’t seem to reassure him. He looked hesitant, as if he was afraid that this could just be a spur of the moment thought. You knew he prioritized your wellbeing above his own desires, and you also knew that he was aware of your impulsive nature. Of the two of you, he had taken on the role to be the one to hold onto any semblance of rationality, and in this moment, that was still true with how admirably he still managed to maintain that thinning hold of self-control.

You wriggled against Zayne, silently urging him to remove his hand from your wrists. He obliged, and just as quickly, you threw your arms around his neck, returning his earlier intense kisses tenfold.

Zayne stumbled back in surprise, one arm instantly around your waist to steady you.

“I’m not being flighty,” you told him firmly. “I’m serious this time.”

“You—”

“I’m not messing with you this time,” you insisted, feeling your emotions were heightening suddenly. You pleaded with him, “Zayne…”

He reached down, cupping your face in his hands, keeping his sight on you. He breathed in deeply, taking in the sincere tears brimming at the corners of your eyes.

“I want a baby,” you told him resolutely, emphasizing strongly, “your baby.”

Zayne breathed in sharply, feeling like time had just stopped. The words you had just spoken replayed in his mind, your earnest expression all he could see in this moment. Slowly, he smiled, letting his forehead pressed against yours.

“For real this time?”

“Uh huh,” you answered with a smile, feeling like you could drown in his beautiful green eyes. “Are you ready to fuck a baby into me?”

He laughed at your bold, outrageous question. With his tone a strange mix between amusement and exasperation, he chided you, “You’re ruining the moment.”

“I don’t care,” you answered back cheekily, leaning up to peck his nose with a kiss. “What do you say?”

“Once you are no longer on your birth control,” he started, ignoring your instant eyeroll at his sudden proper mannerism. He continued, the delight shining in his eyes revealed his true feelings on the matter in that instance before he could even finish his thought: “Absolutely.”

You almost threw your arms around his neck again, stopping only when he continued to speak, his tone suddenly stern.

“You better be ready,” he warned, a familiar smirk graced his handsome face.

You nearly trembled with anticipation, quite certain you could see a pleased, calculating glint in his eye.

Zayne was meticulous.

He did everything well.

And this…

This will be no different, you realized.

For the next several weeks, your sex life with Zayne felt more intense than past instances, since this time, you both were no longer playing out a fantasy or indulging in each other’s whims. All of those lecherous words you had exchanged before now held more truth than ever, and you answered his desires with your own, both of you having never been more in sync than during this period.

You wanted a baby, and so did Zayne.

You were no longer role-playing a secret shared fantasy.

Zayne was now actively trying to impregnate you, breeding you every chance he could. In the morning before work, or late at night when he came home, his stamina unheard of as he was always prepared to stuff your willing wet pussy with his cock, pumping you full of his virile seed until he had you crying from the intensity.

“Soon, soon,” he murmured against your ear as your legs locked around his waist, keeping him firmly to you.

“Yes… yes…” you sobbed back, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, Zaynie! I need your cum inside me. All of it. Inside me.”

His beathing grew erratic before he laughed into the crook of your neck. “You’re too much…” he said, nearly in disbelief by how uninhibited you were. He sighed heavily against you, “I’m going to lose my mind because of you.”

“You will keep me full like this, won’t you, Zayne? Please, Zaynie…”

He kissed your temple. “You’re so unfair,” he whispered, “You know I could never deny you anything.”

You cupped his face, your lips meeting his soundly, so sweetly he was pressing his weight onto you, trapping you within his hold.

“We’re not stopping,” he breathed heavily, his eyes darkened with desires, “Not until you are pregnant, my love.”

He kissed you again, ravaging your lips until you were sure they would bruise. His voice was soft, but the weight of his words stoked the growing flames of passion between you both. “Not until my baby is in your womb.”

And you knew Zayne was a man of his words.

You had thought you knew what you were expecting when you had decided to stop using protection, determined to get pregnant as soon as possible. You had expected that it would all happen immediately, but when you saw that first sign of bleeding signaling your period, you let your disappointment showed.

Zayne, as always, remained the most level-headed of the two of you.

As you curled up on the couch, under a warm blanket, hugging Mr. Seal close to your stomach, you watched as your husband approached from the kitchen with a cup of red date tea, such as he had done monthly for several years now. He sat down next to you and passed the cup over.

“Drink this,” he said, “It will help with your cramps.”

You reluctantly accepted it, taking little sips of the hot beverage. You felt a comforting warmth in your belly. You peered into the mug, your mind drifting back to linger further in your disappointments.

“Hey.”

You looked up, meeting Zayne’s gaze. His expression remained gentle and understanding, already having read you like a book, knowing full well the reason—or rather, reasons—for your current agitated state.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, taking the cup of tea back when you handed it to him. He placed it on a coaster on the coffee table and settled more comfortably on the couch, watching as you shifted over to rest against him. Instinctively, his arms were around you as he comforted you.

“No,” you whispered into his chest, feeling your eyes watering up. You quickly blinked them away.

“Alright,” he answered affably, his hand rubbing the back of your head soothingly.

You looked up, frowning. “‘Alright’?” you repeated in astonishment. “You’re not going to keep pressing?”

“You said ‘no,’” he reminded you with an insufferable, teasing smile. “Would you have also gotten upset if I had kept pursuing this discussion?”

Hearing his response, you hesitated for a moment before begrudgingly nodded in agreement.

“Ah,” he said with an exaggerated lilt in his voice, “So I take it this would have been a lose-lose situation no matter what from my position?”

You humph’d at him before burying your face back into his chest. ���I think I’m allowed to be upset.”

“You are,” he agreed, smiling at your petulant attitude. He reached down, his hand holding your chin gently up so your eyes met his. Softly, he said, “It’s alright.”

From just hearing those two words spoken in his soothing tone, you felt the wall you had tried to put up breaking down and the tears you had attempted to hold back started trickling down your cheeks. Just as quickly, Zayne was cupping your face with his hands and his thumbs were already working to wipe away your tears. His voice remained calm as he comforted you while you cried silently.

You were sure you had been crying for a few minutes before you were able to compose yourself enough to speak. Suddenly, you felt a little insecure, feeling like you couldn’t fully look at him in the eyes. Reluctantly, you started to speak again, “I know I’m being silly…”

“You are allowed to feel the way you do,” he reassured you.

“But…”

“Yes?”

You looked down, feeling embarrassed. The feeling didn’t remain long, because suddenly you found yourself crying out in surprise when Zayne gathered you into his lap. You looked up shocked, eyes shutting when his warm lips met your forehead. You opened your eyes again and looked at him in confusion.

“Let’s talk.”

“I thought you said I didn’t have to…”

“None of that attitude anymore,” he chided you. “You are clearly more upset than you let on, so let’s talk. You will feel better and I will also feel better.”

You tilted your head to the side in confusion at the latter part of his comment. Seeing your expression, he clarified, “I don’t like seeing you this troubled and feeling like I can’t help alleviate your frustrations or anxiety.”

His arms wrapped around you again, pulling you into a warm hug with his chin resting lightly atop your head. “Let’s help each other out,” he said, “I want to know what’s exactly on your mind and I want you to ease my own concerns.”

“Okay,” you said quietly, your hand touching his arm. You contemplated for a moment, unsure of how to put your feelings into words at first. After a few seconds, you admitted to him openly, “I’m sad I didn’t get pregnant immediately.”

He kissed the side of your head. “I understand,” he said, “Is there more to this than simply sadness?”

“I’m… worried that I might not be able to get pregnant,” you added, your voice getting softer, as if you yourself were afraid of hearing your secret inner fear spoken aloud. This was a different kind of vulnerability than you were used to sharing with Zayne, so you didn’t dare look at him in spite of knowing full well that he would never judge you for your feelings and fears.

You heard a soft sigh before Zayne spoke again. “We’ve only started trying recently,” he said, “There is nothing abnormal about not conceiving immediately.”

“I know…”

“Do you feel like I am pressuring you to get pregnant quickly?”

You shook your head and Zayne smiled. “Good,” he said, “Because I am not. I do want a baby with you, but not at the risk of your own wellbeing—and that includes your emotional wellbeing as well.”

You looked at him quizzically.

“Let’s take it slowly,” he said, his hand under your chin again. He tilted your chin up, his lips approaching yours, and his voice remaining that soft, even tone, “When it happens, it will happen.”

“Ah—but—”

“And if a year from now,” he interrupted you, “we are still unsuccessful, then we can begin looking into our fertility.”

He kissed you quickly, and you blinked in surprise. He smiled at you helplessly, saying, “I do believe you might be overreacting a little. It hadn’t been long—”

This time you were the one who surprised him, catching him off-guard when you suddenly leaned up to kiss him and stopped him from speaking further. He didn’t even try to resist, letting you take charge. You felt his hands on your hips, holding you steady while your hands rested on the plane of his chest. You broke away first, breathing a little heavier than earlier.

“Goddamn you, Zayne,” you said breathily.

He quirked his eyebrow up, his own breathing also a little unsteady. He wasn’t expecting you to curse at him.

You smiled. “Why do you always have to be so level-headed?”

He rolled his eyes. “I do not believe the two of us spiraling together would be beneficial in the slightest.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” you conceded lightheartedly. You hugged him back. “Thank you for letting me be the insane one in the relationship.”

He chuckled and returned your hug. “I have never once said you were insane…”

You hummed against his chest, your mood feeling brighter now. Mulling over his earlier words, you knew Zayne was right about what he had said, feeling like you were overreacting a little. Now that everything was out in the open, you even felt a little silly, wondering why you were in such a rush to get pregnant all of a sudden when your recent bout of baby fever came not so long ago.

“Okay!”

Zayne startled, unprepared for your sudden outburst. He peered down at you, waiting, wondering what was going through your head in this moment.

“I’m done moping,” you declared, smiling at him. “I wasn’t stressed about this before, so why should I stress now?”

He nodded in agreement.

“And like you said… when it happens, it will happen.”

He nodded again with a smile, pleased to see you returning to your usual bright demeanor again.

“Zayne?”

“Hm?”

“When you said ‘take it slowly’… you weren’t thinking of taking a break, did you?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Not unless you tell me to—”

“I’m not,” you interrupted, grinning, “I want things to keep staying the same.”

You leaned forward, resting your head on his chest as his strong arms held you against him. You winced suddenly and Zayne looked down in concern.

“My cramps…”

He smiled helplessly again and kissed your forehead. “Why don’t I take you back to our bed and I’ll massage your stomach and you rest?”

“Sounds wonderful,” you agreed. You pouted at him. “Carry me?”

“Darling, you didn’t even need to ask,” he responded, kissing you again before he lifted you into his arms and headed for the bedroom.

It seemed like life fell back into its old routine after you and Zayne had discussed your current situation again. As it turned out, time together quickly became fleeting as both of your careers monopolized the majority of your time.

There were still moments together, but it was mostly exchanging text messages, or meeting for a quick meal once in a while, or simply just catching one another in passing. Time spent together—particularly intimately—were sparser than either of you would have liked, but it couldn’t be helped.

Zayne had numerous surgeries lined up for weeks and you yourself also had missions that required your full attention.

“Just look on the bright side,” Zayne told you over a video call one night. You were currently away in another town for a disaster relief mission while Zayne had to remain back in Linkon because of his own work schedule. He smiled at you through the screen in an attempt to reassure you, though your persistent pout proved to him that he was not doing an exemplary job at the moment. In any case, he continued, “At least both of our busy schedules aligned together, so neither one of us has to feel lonely.”

“I guess so,” you mumbled at him as you paced your hotel room. “I still miss you… and not because I am in another town.”

“I know,” he responded, “I miss you, too.”

You gave him a small smile, feeling somewhat placated by his own admission and mutual feelings.

“It won’t be long,” Zayne reassured you. “By the end of this month, I won’t have as many surgeries lined up for a while and I’m sure your own workload will lighten as well.”

Your smile widened.

Next month, you remembered, would be September.

As in, Zayne’s birthday month.

Instantly giddy, your brain started working in overdrive to plan a birthday surprise for Zayne, feeling like it would be the perfect opportunity for you both to rekindle your relationship after this recent spell of busyness that had been keeping you both apart from one another.

“Alright, I’m glad to see you smiling again,” Zayne said, seemingly unaware of the true reason behind your sudden mood change.

You decided it was best to let him believe otherwise so you could maintain the element of surprise for his birthday. You simply nodded and tried to redirect the conversation to him instead.

It worked. You smiled along as Zayne described his days, picturing in your mind the image of him going around the hospital and after work walking home, passing by a dessert shop he wanted to try out with you when you returned from your mission. After a few more minutes of speaking, your eyes felt heavier, but you still tried to keep the conversation going since after all, this was the first lengthy conversation you and Zayne had together in a while.

“It’s late,” Zayne said suddenly, catching on to your attempts to stay awake. He smiled and continued, “Say good night to me.”

You instantly perked up at his words and tone. You frowned a little, asking, “Why do you always do that?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t ‘hm?’ me!” you said, vexed, “You know what you just did.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he answered evenly, though you could have sworn there was a mischievous smirk on his face. You stiffened up a little when he continued in that same authoritative tone again, “Say good night to me.”

You waited a few seconds.

He also remained patient as well.

Your lips twitched.

Zayne smirked.

“…Good night, Zaynie…”

He smiled, pleased. “Good night, my love,” he answered, “Sweet dreams.”

Zayne was right.

He was pretty much always right, you realized, feeling both pride and annoyance by the fact.

As August neared its end, you felt like you could breathe again at work as the tasks you had to perform lessened and the increased number of hunters available meant that there was no need for you to cover as many areas as you have been doing these last few weeks.

Since returning home from your previous mission, you had also managed to find ways to sneak in some alone time with Zayne whether it was surprising him in his office or waiting for him after his late shifts. In time, he even returned the gestures, stealing moments with you when he could.

It wasn’t uncommon to see him dropping you off at work, or meeting him for a quick milk tea break. You still missed the long hours alone with him, but for now, the little moments together were still more welcomed than not seeing him at all.

In some way, you began treating this temporary period like when you two had first started dating and was struggling to find that balance of work and meeting one another. You smiled at the memory.

“What’s making you smile so much?” Zayne asked when he approached your waiting spot on a park bench. He held up a paper bag. “A croissant breakfast sandwich or a honey castella?”

You smiled wryly, noting the obvious choice of savory versus sweet. While Zayne would not be disappointed if you did take the sweet treat instead, you liked the small smile he would wear on his face when you let him have the sweeter choice. “The breakfast sandwich.”

He chuckled and passed the paper bag of food to you. You reached inside and pulled out the breakfast sandwich. Wrapped in a beige parchment paper, the croissant sandwich was still warm and smelled of egg and sausage. Your stomach grumbled a little.

“Now,” he continued with a playful smile on his face, his other hand holding up a paper tray containing two cups of coffee, “a cinnamon maple latte or salted caramel mocha?”

You licked your lips a little. “They both sound good,” you said, still pondering.

He smiled and sat down next to you on the bench, setting the drinks to the side. “Then we’ll share both.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, smiling in delight. “I’m glad you can have breakfast with me today.”

He peered down at his watch. “I’m afraid it won’t be long though,” he answered. “I need to return to the hospital by ten.”

“I understand,” you responded, a little disappointed, “I can’t take a long break either. We have a team meeting at eleven today.”

You bit into your sandwich, enjoying the instant savory flavor dancing on your tongue. “Okay, no more talks about work! We can’t waste our precious time together with things like that.”

Zayne nodded in agreement, amused by your bright personality. “Okay, then you still haven’t answered my earlier question.”

“Hm?”

“Why were you smiling so much earlier?”

You pondered over his words before remembering. Your cheeks turned a little rosy, feeling somewhat embarrassed. “It’s silly…”

“Tell me,” He urged, taking a sip of his drink. He appeared surprised by the flavor.

Noticing this, you tried to use it as a way to deflect the conversation from you. “Which flavor is that?”

“The latte,” he said, clarifying, “The cinnamon maple latte.”

“Do you not like it?”

He took another sip. “They overdid it on the cinnamon,” he said after taking three more sips.

You laughed. “Then why are you still drinking it?”

You stole the cup from him and took a sip yourself, grimacing at the overpowering scent of cinnamon. You decided to chase the drink with the salted caramel mocha, preferring the latter over the former. You held up your half-eaten sandwich to your husband. “Want a bite?”

He shook his head.

“Have a bite,” you demanded.

“When did this offer turn into a demand, Miss Hunter?”

“Right now,” you said, grinning as you pushed the sandwich closer to his mouth. He eyed you with a look of amusement, feigning exasperation before he bit into the croissant. You watched him chewed and swallowed the food, your voice exclaiming suddenly, “Oh, you got something on your mouth—"

Before Zayne could react, you already leaned up and kissed him, playfully nipping and licking his mouth clean. When you pulled away, he pretended to glare at you, though the smile on his face gave away his true feelings. He kissed you briefly again before poking your nose with his finger.

“I see Miss Hunter has resorted to trickery to get what she wants.”

“It was just a—”

He kissed you again, a bit longer and a bit deeper than earlier, feeling like he was making up for the long absence and all of those times apart. When he finally paused, his lips just mere centimeters from your own, you heard him murmured, “You never need to trick me to get what you want. I would give you everything you ask for.”

Your cheeks tinged pink, your mind dizzied by the kisses, by his words, by him. Your food was left on the bench, now forgotten as your entire attention was on him. You cupped his face, feeling like it had been a while since you were this close to him—both physically and emotionally. A smile crept onto your face as you relearned his features, noticing he appeared slimmer than you remembered.

“I know you’ve been busy, but you need to eat on time,” you chided him.

He smiled at your scolding and nodded.

Your eyes glanced at the faint bags under his eyes. “And sleep when you can,” you added. You reached up, your thumb brushing under one of his eyes. “Even a doctor needs to rest and follow his own advices.”

He chuckled. “How did this breakfast together turned into my wife scolding me?”

“You don’t like having a naggy wife?”

He laughed. “I did not say that,” he protested. He kissed you again, and murmured to you, “I know why you’re doing this.”

“Hm? Doing what?” you feigned obliviousness.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he said instead. “I’ve missed you a lot. So, so much…”

“Ah—our…our coffee is getting cold…”

He huffed in amusement. “I do not care,” he said, “Do you?”

“No…”

Just as Zayne was about to lean in for another kiss, you both heard the sound of a timer going off. Glancing down, you saw that it was your phone, signaling the end of your breaktime with him. You both sighed in disappointment.

“You better head back to the hospital or you’ll be late,” you said, voice tinged with clear disappointment. Unconsciously, you had grabbed onto his hand, holding tight in spite of your words. He noticed the gesture, but did not say anything.

Suddenly, you felt Zayne cupping your cheek, and you looked to him, seeing that same disappointment in his smile. He reassured you gently, “Just a few more weeks. I don’t have that many surgeries left this month, and my schedule should lighten by next month as well.”

You tried to smile and nodded. Suddenly, you remembered the birthday plans you had secretly made. There was so much to look forward to and preparations you still needed to do, so you began to forget about the current situation.

“You know…”

“What is it?” Zayne asked.

“This feels like when we first started dating,” you said, seeing the immediate confusion on his face.

“Hm?”

You laughed at his puzzled expression. “Don’t you remember?” you asked, poking his cheek in jest. “We were always so busy with our jobs, so it was a task just trying to find time to meet up.”

As if a lightbulb had gone off in his head, Zayne’s eyes brightened in understanding. He chuckled and nodded.

“There was something you said once that stayed with me for a while…”

“Something I said?”

“I remember telling you how if we’re seeing each other on Sunday, then I would start getting ready on Saturday. And you said—”

“‘If I’m able to see you Sunday… I’ll start getting excited Thursday.’”

“You remembered…”

He smiled and leaned forward, closing the small gap between you both. “How could I forget anything when it comes to you?”

“Zayne…”

He brushed his lips over yours, whispering softly, “But thankfully now whenever I want to see you, I just need to come home.”

You smiled. “You are going to be late heading back,” you reminded him.

“Right,” he said, brushing his lips against yours once more before standing up.

Nodding again, you saw him off as you made your own trip back to your workplace, smiling brighter as you still felt Zayne’s lingering kisses on your lips.

As Zayne had said previously, his own schedule was becoming less hectic in the coming weeks, which meant soon, you would have him all to yourself.

Or so you had thought.

“Wait a minute,” you said one morning, startled by a seemingly innocuous comment your husband had just made. You furrowed your brows in confusion before asking softly, “So you are going to be working on your birthday again?”

Zayne turned to look at you, already knowing all of the thoughts racing through your head. It also didn’t help that you couldn’t maintain a poker face, your true feelings seen clearly in your disappointed expression. He walked over and cupped your face, his lips pressed to your forehead in reassurance.

“It wasn’t intentional,” he said. “It had slipped my mind that it was going to be on a weekday, and besides, we can always celebrate the weekend before or after.”

You mumbled in agreement, though it remained obvious to your husband that you were still not appeased by his rational reasoning. You yelped in surprise when he suddenly pinched your cheeks. “Ah—quit it, Zayne!”

He chuckled and apologized immediately, though you couldn’t help but noticed the lack of sincerity, feeling like his smile was just a tad wider than it should be. You lightly glared at him and he apologized again. “Come now,” he said, “Wipe that glare off your face. You’re acting like it was your birthday I had ruined.”

“It’s just…”

“Just what? Tell me.”

You sighed in defeat before relaying to him the plans you had made. You were planning on taking him out for breakfast at a nice café before spending the morning wandering through an art museum with him. There was even a new bistro in town you wanted to try out with him, and later you thought of taking him to a bookstore and for ten whole minutes, you were going to let him pick out as many books as he wanted and you were going to pay for everything. Afterwards, you had even planned on an afternoon break at a bakery, letting him indulge in as much sweets as he would like.

Just before you could continue onto the next phase in your birthday plan for him, Zayne stopped you, his hands resting on your shoulders and his eyes a little wider than normal, completely surprised by the level of planning you had already made. To your confusion, he suddenly laughed, appearing delighted.

“Thank you,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It sounds like it would have been a wonderfully… packed day.”

You pouted in spite of his laughter. “It would have… I even scheduled a day off to be with you,” you told him, adding accusatorily, “I thought you would have done the same…”

He apologized again. “I’m sorry. The meeting came up suddenly, and I can’t back out of it on short notice.”

You continued to sulk.

“Hey,” he said softly, his hand gripping your chin. He lifted it so your eyes met his. “How about a raincheck then? We can do a makeup day the next weekend.”

“It won’t be the same,” you said softly, realizing you were also behaving like a petulant child right now, but you couldn’t help this immense feeling of disappointment you felt.

You gasped when Zayne’s arms suddenly wrapped around you tightly, your face now pressed to his chest. You peered up just as he leaned down to meet your lips. You started to smile again, feeling the warmth of his lips on yours.

“Thank you,” he said suddenly.

“For what?” you stared back quizzically. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Just for remembering my birthday—better than me, even—and for…” he kissed you again before his forehead pressed to yours. “Just for caring about me this much.”

As you gazed into his kind, loving eyes, a thought popped into your head. A new idea had sprouted, already making you forget your earlier disappointment. Zayne said you were bad at hiding your feelings, but in this moment, he hadn’t seemed to notice that telltale mischievous glint in your eye. You feigned disappointment again, hoping he wouldn’t catch on.

“I just wanted you to have a nice birthday, Zayne.”

He laughed. “I know you do, and you always make them memorable.”

You almost wanted to laugh along with him, but you maintained your despondent demeanor. You continued to act stiff with him. “Just remember it’s your fault if this year is not as nice as everything I’ve planned previously.”

“Yes, yes,” he sighed as you scolded him, holding you more firmly to him again. “I think I can survive dealing with the occasional underwhelming birthdays.”

“Just remember, this is your fault.”

“Yes, yes, it’s my fault I will have such an unmemorable birthday.”

You snuggled into his embrace, hiding your mischievous smile from view.

Unmemorable? Ha! We’ll see about that, Zaynie…

On the morning of Zayne’s birthday, you woke up to an empty bed, surprised that he had already left for work without saying anything to you. You sighed and stayed lounging in bed for a while, your eyes occasionally darting to the clock to check the time every few minutes.

It was just about eight, and you surmised that Zayne would probably be settling into his office by now going through reports and the likes before his meeting at ten. Had it been any other day, you would also be at your own job either writing up a report or being out in the field, but since September 5th was such a special day to you, you had planned a month in advance to have this day off for your husband’s birthday.

You realized it was a tiny bit of your own fault for not at least reminding him to schedule the day off as well. You huffed, mildly annoyed. Well, you thought, after several birthdays together, one would think he would be more in tune with your yearly plans.

Apparently not.

Forget it, you thought, tossing the bed cover to the side. You rolled out of your bed and went to freshen up in the bathroom. In your shared master closet with Zayne, your hand skimmed across the array of neatly hung dress shirts before settling on a simple white one. The fabric felt so soft, and you smiled as you stripped down to just your underwear. It was a very risqué black rose lace panty that left very little to the imagination. You slipped on his dress shirt, the length of it reaching down all the way to your thighs. You intentionally left the first four buttons undone, revealing more than enough of your cleavage for him to witness later.

After doing your hair and makeup, you grabbed your phone, smirking as you realized you had one hour before Zayne would be out of his meeting.

Perfect.

The moment Zayne turned his phone back on, he saw a notification for a message from his wife. Unsurprised, he figured you wanted to greet him a happy birthday, but the moment he opened the message he realized how wrong he was.

There was a birthday message—of sorts—but it was not delivered in a way he had thought you would send it.

Thankfully, he was in the privacy of his office.

“This girl…”

You had sent him one message: For the birthday boy. 💋

And afterwards he saw a series of photos taken in provocative positions of you wearing what appeared to be nothing but just a shirt of his. He swallowed slowly as he scrolled down the conversation, seeing photos of you on your knees and leaning forward enough to show off your cleavage. Some had you on your back, your legs tucked close to your chest, while a few had your legs spread apart while you stared at the camera all doe-eyed and sweet.

Zayne gasped, suddenly startled when another attachment was received.

You were straddling his pillow.

His breathing grew a little unsteady, his eyes taking in what appeared to be—

He immediately turned his phone off again and raced out of his office. On the way out, he asked Greyson to cover him for the rest of the day, giving little explanations other than “something came up.” Had he been paying attention, Zayne might have caught Greyson exchanging a knowing smile with Yvonne, forgetting that they both were previous attendants to his past birthday parties.

As Zayne drove home, he knew he should have been wary of how his wife had seemed to be so compliant after the earlier disappointments. In the days leading up to his birthday, he hadn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. On the contrary, you had seemed very cheerful, no longer upset that he was working on his birthday.

He hadn’t thought that you would have a Plan B, or perhaps, he should call it Plan XXX considering the nature of it all. The moment he arrived home, with his phone in hand still pinging every so often with new messages, he found his darling wife lounging on the couch, appearing proud of yourself as you had just finished taking the latest photo.

There was a sudden buzzing noise.

You froze.

Zayne opened the text message he had just received and smirked.

“My love, are these my so-called birthday presents from you?”

Slowly, you turned around, unprepared to see Zayne had actually come home early from work.

“We-welcome home, Zaynie,” you managed to squeak out.

“Hm,” he responded in acknowledgement and in just a few short strides, he made his way over to the couch, sitting down next to you. Before you could say another word, he grabbed your wrist, startling you when he dragged you to lay over his lap and suddenly you felt a coolness, feeling your panties had been pulled down to expose your bare ass.

“Za-Zayne—ah!"

He had loosened his tie, removing it, and with expert quickness, Zayne had your wrists bounded together. You attempted to struggle, but found that he had tied it secured enough that it would not undo while still loose enough that it wouldn’t harm your wrists. Before you could question him, you felt that first sudden strike on your bare bottom, the rough feel of his calloused hand making contact with your ass had you crying out in both surprise and pain.

He instantly rubbed soothing circles where he had struck. There was nothing apologetic about his tone, his words firm and domineering. “One slap for every photo you had sent me today.”

You gasped in surprise.

You had sent him thirteen photos.

His hand struck your ass again. “Now count,” he commanded sternly.

“T-two…”

“Louder.”

Another strike.

“Three!”

He hummed in approval, his large hand smoothed over your reddened cheek. “Good girl,” he praised, and from just those two words alone you felt butterflies beginning to flutter in your belly, a sudden innate desire to please him was awakened within you.

He gave you a moment of reprieve, eyeing you with amusement. When you attempted to squirm again, another slap landed on your sore bottom without warning and you cried into the couch cushion.

“Did I say you could move?” he asked tauntingly. “How many was that?”

“F-four…”

He continued, experimenting with the strength each time and not leaving any hint to the pattern of his actions for you to discern or prepare for, although with the current state he had you in, all rational thoughts had left your head the moment he had tied your wrists together and laid you over his lap.

You winced and gasped, not expecting such strength from the normally gentle doctor. Every so often, your fingers dug into the couch cushion, nails scraping along the fabric whenever the pain was stronger than you could handle.

While a part of you knew you shouldn’t be feeling anything other than fear and shame, your body was having a completely different reaction to his mean treatment. You wondered when he would notice the growing wetness between your legs. His tone and this persona he had taken on were arousing you more than usual.

A part of you instantly wanted to submit to him, to act and behave in a way to earn more of his sweet praises, but there was also another side of you that was so aroused by seeing the once gentle doctor take control, asserting his dominance in a way that left you so breathless and shaken, you wanted to rile and provoke him more, needing to see just how far you could push him before he retaliated.

He didn’t give you long to gather your thoughts to think further. His hand was once more circling your smooth bottom. You glanced up at him, breathing heavier as you took in the way his gentle eyes had darkened with desires.

Another forceful slap.

You gasped again, crying out his name, nearly mewling whenever he quickly switched from his rough treatment to soothing you with gentle words and touches. “Z-Zayne…”

“How many?”

“T-ten…”

“Almost done,” he said. “Just a little longer.”

You panted quietly, almost feeling ashamed that you were disappointed he was going to be done soon. You wondered about other ways to push his buttons, to keep this side of him out for a bit longer. The thought left your mind when you felt the next slap, the sharp sound of his hand meeting your bottom was louder than the previous instances.

The immediate sting was so painful, but oh-so good.

“E-eleven!”

You cried into the couch, feeling that wetness between your legs worsened. You squirmed a little, needing relief from this growing ache.

Another strike.

“Twel-twelve… Zayne… Zayne, please…” You could barely speak, feeling overwhelmed by his punishment and your growing arousal.

It didn’t appear he had caught on yet as to why you were pleading with him, mistaking your cries for pain instead of arousal. The last strike was the gentlest, barely felt after everything you had endured.

“Thirteen…”

He leaned down and kissed your neck, his voice gentle again as he whispered apologies to you. “Was I too rough just now?”

Before you could respond to him, Zayne was chuckling as he chastised you once more, “You’re not supposed to enjoy your punishment.”

There was no anger or annoyance in his voice, just amusement tinged his tone, but before you could even utter a response, he had you crying out in both shock and pleasure when his fingers slipped into your wet folds, thrusting in and out a few times experimentally to see just how wet you were. You were moaning his name, begging and pleading for more than just this simple stimulation, but in that moment, he had decided to pull out, leaving you empty and throbbing with a need to be filled. You cried out in shock and frustration, looking behind to see his fingers coated in your essence.

You didn’t have time to be upset with him, your mind blanking the instance you watched those beautiful fingers slipped into his mouth, seeing him sucked long and slow those digits clean before he removed them, his tongue running over his lips before he smirked at you, whether in amusement or tauntingly, you weren’t entirely sure, too dumbstruck to fully think straight and too captivated by how handsome he was.

It felt like you had stopped breathing. You could feel your heartbeat growing erratic, getting caught in this moment of excitement as you ached for more of him.

He had no business looking so sexy doing that, and that simple act alone shouldn’t have had such an effect on you, but it did. Suddenly, you startled when you registered that he was pulling your panties back up, and now you were whining at him, begging for him to relieve you of this growing ache inside of you.

“N-no, Zaynie, please…”

He peered down at you with that same provoking smirk, one eyebrow raised in question, though it was clear he was very amused by the state of frustration you were in. “Please? Please what?” he asked mischievously, adding sternly, “Use your words, my love, or I won’t know what you want.”

You wanted to snap back at his taunt. Perhaps during any other instances, you would have countered his teasing with your own, but by this point, you were in no state to be so sassy with him. The wetness between your legs had worsened so much, the need to be filled by him was all you could think about, knowing just how full and satisfied you would feel with his beautiful cock buried deep inside you.

Zayne continued to gaze at you with such a haughty smile, as if he was pleased to see how frustrated you were because of him. Perhaps, he might have even considered this a fitting punishment for how you behaved earlier today with sending him those risqué photos while he was working.

Practically sulking, you complied with him. You twisted your body on the couch to peer up at him, your bounded wrists pressed close to your chest, and you said softly with tears brimming in your eyes, “Please… fuck me.”

He breathed in quickly, unprepared for your brazen obedience.

As if a dam had broken and all of your feelings and inner desires were rushing out in torrents, you continued your shameless pleas, ready now to beg him to satisfy you in ways only he could. “Please, Zaynie… I need your… your cock… inside… inside me.”

He laughed softly, amazed by your bold plea. He settled down on the couch, laying on his side behind you, and pulled you flushed to him. Your back pressed to his toned chest, your sudden squirming stilled the moment Zayne wrapped his arm around your middle to trap you to him.

His hand reached around to tug his tie free from around your wrists, releasing you from your silk shackle. His fingers soothingly glided across your wrists, appearing to appraise you for any lingering marks. They were faint, but nothing too harmful. He was always mindful that way, wanting to discipline your petulant behavior, but never wishing to harm you. He pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Such lewd words,” he murmured, his tone more amused than disappointed. “Now when did my lovely wife learn to say such obscene things?”

You grinded back against him, feeling his bulge against your ass and hearing his instant hiss before his hand grabbed your hip, holding you in place again. Suddenly, you heard the sound of his pants zippers, and you were whining now, feeling his fingers dragging your panties to the side. The needy whines turned into long, slow moans the moment he eased into you and you felt that massive intrusion stretching you just deliciously as you clenched around him.

“F-fuck,” he gasped, those rare curses he would say somehow the most erotic thing you had ever heard. He gripped your leg, lifting enough so he could have an easier access before he started rocking into you with a steady pace. With every shallow thrust, his pants and your moans intermingled in tandem to the lewd sounds. He peered down at you, taking in the sight of your flushed face buried in the couch cushion as you gasped and moaned to the feeling of him penetrating you so perfectly. His breathing grew unsteady as he husked softly, sounding almost amazed by the fact, “So fucking wet… it’s like you’re swallowing me.”

Every stroke you felt was heavenly, this mounting pleasure practically sinful. You gasped into the cushions, your nails dragging along the fabric of the couch again, feeling like he was drowning you in this intense pleasure. Zayne’s arm slipped under your head to rest, and instantly you grabbed his hand, his thumb slipping into your eager mouth. Immediately, he groaned, the feeling of your warm mouth around his thumb and the sight of you so shameless and pretty like this made him want to fuck you harder, reduce you to an even more helpless mess than you already were. He dragged his shirt on you to the side, his lips finding your shoulder to kiss, branding you with his marks.

Everything he did, his entire being, was overwhelming your senses, your mind lost to this intense haze of pleasure. You continued to suckle his thumb, your hands grasping his firmly, not wanting to part from him, feeling his heat so close to yours. Distantly, you heard him groaned, “Say my name.”

There was a warm tightening in your belly, and you answered him with a sweet gasp, “Za-Zayne…”

He roughly pulled his hand away, and you protested and whined from the abrupt loss.

“Louder,” he hissed, driving into you harder.

“Z-Zayne!”

The same hand he had pulled away reached lower, grasping your breast, fondling and squeezing tightly as his hips continued to move steadily faster. Sweats dripped along the sides of his face, his hair sticking to his skin, and his expression flushed with heavy arousal at the sight of how beautifully you were taking him, your own cheeks red and hot, eyes squeezed tightly shut as you felt him thrusting deeper inside you.

“My pretty wife,” he murmured, his lips pressing into the crook of your neck as he continued to praise you, “My love, let me hear more of your sweet voice.”

“Za-Zayne… ah… ah… you feel so, so good…”

He hummed in approval, his hand kneading your breast harder, his thumb swirling over your sensitive nipple before pinching them, making you squealed in surprise. He showed no sign of stopping any of his ministrations, wanting to lure out more of your sweet moans and whines, your heavenly voice making him dizzy with desires.

His arm suddenly wrapped tightly around your chest, pulling you back firmly against his own as his movements quickened to a brutal pacing. Your hands reached up to grasp at his arm, nails digging into his skin as you cried harder, your squeals growing in pitch as a familiar pleasure crested, reaching closer and closer to its peak.

“Za-Zayne! …Gonna… gonna cum… oh, god… I’m gonna cum!”

“Good girl,” he praised, kissing your neck soundly as he groaned softly, “I’m close, too…”

You panted, your breathing even more unsteady after hearing his words. The overstimulation was too much, your mind barely able to focus on anything other than the feeling of him bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your walls tightened around him and he groaned again, his face burying into your neck.

“In-inside me! Please, Zayne, please…!”

“Bu—”

“I want you to knock me up, Zayne!”

His breath hitched. His hand reached lower, resting over your flat belly. He almost wanted to chuckle, both amused and delighted by your exclamation. You both had been fucking so recklessly lately, all precautions abandoned, submitting to your primitive desires completely, he wouldn’t be surprised if you were already pregnant at this moment, already carrying his baby in your body.

His hand circled your belly, his mind drifting away to a secret fantasy of his, already imagining a small swell forming, his baby resting in your womb, growing day by day bigger. You would need new clothes, he realized with a small smile. He would delight in choosing the prettiest dresses that would be comfortable for you, but still snug enough that the fabric stretched around your round belly, letting you show off the cute swell, the very evidence that he was the one who had impregnated you.

People would congratulate the doctor and his wife for their growing family, not knowing that he had been actively breeding you every chance he could, but most importantly, when he knew for certain that you were ovulating, your body just begging for him to impregnate you with his child.

If people even knew the number of times he had stayed buried inside of you, letting you milk him completely dry and making sure not a single drop of his cum would go to waste, they would surely be scandalized that such a respectful, revered, and well-mannered young man could harbor such a perverse side that he kept well hidden behind closed doors. If they only knew the extent of his fantasies, of his desires and need to make sure all of his virile seed stayed inside of you, needing just one to take. He knew you were fertile, your womb just begging to carry his child. He was going to make this fantasy a reality.

You were already the prettiest little wife for him, so sweet and charming, he was completely smitten by you entirely, but Zayne knew he would be even more enamored when you carry his baby. The proof of his love for you, a baby who would be the perfect blend of you both.

“My baby…” he husked, giving your flat belly another rub, “You want my baby in your belly?”

“Ye-yes… please…”

He huffed, almost laughing breathlessly. He was going delirious. Your willingness and pleas were only fueling his desires. Suddenly, he pulled out completely and you cried in frustration at the sudden loss of him, but just as quickly he had flipped you onto your back and you stared up in wide-eyed confusion as he parted your legs before driving into you deeply.

You nearly choked on your cries, unprepared for his sudden brute force. Your nails dug into the fabric of the cushion again as he spread you more, pushing in deeper and harder, his every movement had your breasts bouncing as you gasped out his name in desperation over and over again.

“C-cumming… Zayne, I’m cumming…”

“Yes, yes, cum. Cum for me, darling,” he murmured, his own pants nearly matching yours. He was smirking as he drank in the sight of you, completely cock-drunk by him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth opened in silent euphoria. His words sounded more frenzied. “You might already be pregnant.”

You whimpered, and your nails dug even deeper into the cushion.

“Might already be carrying my baby,” he continued, “You like this thought, don’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, Zayne!”

“Oh, fuck,” he sighed, “But it wouldn’t hurt to keep filling you up until we’re sure…”

His hand found yours, gripping it tightly as he pressed it into the cushion. He rocked into you deeply, his sweat-slicked forehead pressing against yours briefly before his lips found your own. As he ravaged your lips, leaving no room for you to breathe, he continued to taunt you with his tantalizing words in between every searing kiss: “Want my baby so badly, you’ve been begging for it every time, haven’t you?”

You nodded helplessly, eyes brimming with tears as you felt your climax was approaching faster now. He was practically bruising your lips with his relentless kisses. You could barely think straight, having completely succumbed to him, letting his soft but firm voice hypnotize you, lead you to the edge.

“Have you thought about the changes that will happen?”

You broke free from his kiss and buried your face into the crook of his neck. He pressed your legs further back and you squealed as he plumbed deeply into you, hitting that same sweet spot over and over again as he continued to pant such deliciously sinful words.

“You’re going to be even more beautiful… carrying my baby… have you… have you wearing only clothes that would show off your adorable round belly—” He was growing feverish, his own words having more of an effect on him than he realized. He was already imagining the changes. “Everyone will know it’s my baby in you.”

He chuckled suddenly, as if amused by a joke only he knew. “I don’t think I will be able to keep my hands off of you,” he confessed, “I’m going to want to touch you more, feel you more, need to be buried in your sweet pussy and fuck you again and again and again while you’re pregnant.”

“Ah… Za—”

You felt Zayne’s hands grabbed at your buttocks, lifting you up as your legs locked around his waist. You moaned into his shoulder, your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, holding onto him as he took you past the point of no return, his thrusts rushing more frantically as you both neared your releases.

“You’ll let me, won’t you?” he smirked, already knowing the answer himself, panting even harder as he felt your approaching climax, “Let me have you, let me feel you when you’re so round and heavy with our child. Let me fuck you, claim you over and over again—”

“Oh, fuck, yes!”

Zayne’s eyes widened suddenly at your euphoric cry, your hold on him tightening, submitting to the intense climax that had steadily been building since his earlier punishment. Your nails sank into his back, dragging across his skin and leaving deep marks on him. He gasped, hissing in pleasure, as he thrusted more erratically, yielding to his own need for his release. With a few more hurried strokes, Zayne groaned deeply as he emptied into you, feeling your pussy squeezed his cock and milking him dry.

“Ah… Za-Zayne… ah, so—ohhh!”

You rested against him, whimpering into his shoulder, feeling the heavy spurts before he started to soften inside of you, but he didn’t appear to be ready to leave your warmth just yet. Your mind still clouded by the intense pleasure just now, you didn’t realize he pulled you away from his neck, only aware of him when his fingers rested under your chin and gently tilting up so his lips could claim yours, so light and fleeting, just a gentle brush before he asked softly with his warm hazel eyes watching you with genuine concern, “Are you sore? Was I too rough with you just now?”

You smiled at him with lazy bliss and shook your head.

“Won’t speak to me?” he teased, giving you a quick peck on the tip of your nose, his smile widening at the sound of your gentle giggles.

“Happy birthday, Zaynie,” you said instead, making him chuckled in amusement.

“Thank you,” he laughed. “It turned out more… memorable than I originally thought it would be.”

You blinked at him confused and said not-so-innocently, “You’re speaking as if this is all you are getting for your birthday.”

He eyed you with suspicion. “What are you up to now?”

“Nothing,” you said with a cheeky smile. You wrapped your arms around his neck again and said with a pout, “Zaynie, I’m tired, can you carry me to the kitchen please?”

He chuckled. “Are you asking me to serve you on my own birthday, Miss?”

“Please?”

He pulled out of you with a groan, your damped panties readjusted. Sighing, Zayne kissed your cheek before his arms slipped under you. “Very well,” he said, “Hold on tight.”

As you held onto him, you gasped into his shoulder again, feeling some of his seed dripping into your soaked panties.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, confused by your behavior change.

“N-nothing,” you fibbed, keeping you face buried against him. You hummed happily, and reminded him, “Kitchen please.”

You giggled when he stood up and shifted, his arms were holding you securely to him as your legs wrapped around his waist tightly before he headed to the kitchen. With your guidance, he walked to the fridge, watching in confusion when you reached for the handle and opened the door. On one of the door shelves, you grabbed a can of whipped cream, making Zayne lift his eyebrow, even more baffled by your actions.

“Whipped cream?” he questioned.

“I couldn’t get you a birthday cake since you had said you would be working all day today,” you explained.

He chuckled and shook his head in amusement. He readjusted his hold on you, shifting the weight more comfortably against him. He gazed at you with so much warmth in his eyes as he spoke lightheartedly, “Ah, so it’s my fault I only get whipped cream instead of a birthday cake then?”

You made a face at him, puffing your cheeks up in annoyance. “What do you mean ‘only whipped cream?’”

“Hm?” He was about to question you, but you stopped him.

“Bedroom first,” you commanded.

“Ordering me around on my birthday?” he questioned with mock offense, but his feet were already moving to the next location. He chuckled when you yelped in surprise when his large hand rubbed over your bottom that was still a little sore from his earlier ‘punishment’. He continued in the same light-hearted tone, “I see my earlier… lesson didn’t have the expected effect on you. I should have known better.”

“I’m sorry, Zaynie,” you said unapologetically, “I’m a bit of a slow learner. Could you discipline me again—I mean teach me agai—ah!”

He had entered the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him and made his way to the large king-sized bed at the center of the room. Without any warning, he had tossed you onto the bed midsentence. Once you were able to recover from the shock, you were about to demand an explanation for his behavior, but you paused, startled when he started to unbutton his shirt.

“Zayne?”

“Hm?” He smiled down at you as he loosened the cuffs of his sleeves, revealing a glimpse of the faint scars on his arms. He tilted his head to the side, pretending like he was disappointed in you. Your gaze followed his fingers, watching him unbutton his shirt with intentional slowness. Once the shirt was completely unbuttoned, he walked to the bed, crawling on top until he was hovering above you while you leaned back, caught beneath him like a captured prey. You eyed him with surprise, wondering what was going through his head in this moment.

You glanced appreciatively downward, catching sight of Zayne’s toned abdomen beneath his unbuttoned shirt, but he didn’t let you look for long, his hand grasping your chin and lifting it up, directing your gaze back to him.

“Eyes on me,” he commanded.

“Technically, I was—”

“Behave,” he interrupted firmly and you clammed up under his stern look. He smirked in amusement at your immediate obedience before he lowered his glance. Wordlessly, his fingers brushed over the waistband of your panties.

“Za-Zayne?”

He huffed in amusement. “They’re completely soaked,” he murmured. He pulled them down, taking them off of you. He breathed in sharply before letting out a slow exhale. “I’m going to have to buy you some new lingerie it seems.”

You readjusted his shirt on you, covering your sudden exposed body from his view with lightly pinked cheeks. Noticing your not-so subtle actions, he pulled your hands away with a knowing smirk, and guided the shirt off, tossing it to the side, letting you sit completely nude to him.

“Suddenly shy now?” he teased, “What happened to that boldness you displayed earlier, my love?”

“I-I’m cold,” you fibbed with faux annoyance.

He nodded in understanding, humoring your defiance. “Then I should warm you up, shouldn’t I?”

You breathed in quickly, watching as one by one, all article of his clothing was removed until he was also completely nude in your presence. Even though as his wife, you had seen him completely naked numerous times before, it never stopped you from appreciating his beautiful physique, much the same way he also always adored seeing you completely exposed to him—only for him.

“We should both warm each other up,” he rephrased with a mischievous smirk. Zayne leaned forward and you lost your balance, your back hitting the mattress as he loomed above you, keeping you trapped beneath him. Perhaps it was because of the sudden heightened sexually-charged atmosphere, but you could feel your heart was beating faster than normal again, practically pounding within your chest.

You were excited. Excited by the feeling of anticipation for what could happen next tonight. Excited by the way Zayne was behaving, roguishly domineering as he took control of the situation. And excited by the prospect that whatever had happened and was going to happen could also lead to you and him expecting—

“Come here,” he whispered, his body pressing down closer to yours.

Caught under his beautiful hazel gaze, you didn’t notice Zayne had grabbed the can of whipped cream that had rolled to the side on the bed. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, distracting you as he shook the can a few times. When he pulled away, you whined softly from the loss of his sweet lips, making him chuckled.

“This can of whipped cream,” he murmured, though you barely registered his words, still intoxicated by his kisses. “What were your intentions with bringing this into our bedroom?”

“Hm?” You peered up at him doe-eyed, and he laughed again at your coyness. Suddenly, you yelped in surprise, brought back to the present when Zayne squirted a small dollop of the cold whipped cream above your chest. “Za-Zayne!”

“You said you didn’t get me a birthday cake, but you also insisted on bringing this can of whipped cream into our bedroom,” he continued in his soft tone thoughtfully. “One might surmise you were planning something… deviant with this, am I correct?”

You huffed, sighing, “You’re such a smart boy, Zaynie.”

He smiled in amusement at your vexed expression. “Then, as the… birthday boy, am I allowed to decorate my… treat?”

You felt a fluttering in your belly, an excited anticipation from hearing the heavy implication in his words. You nodded slowly, eyes following him as he shook the can again. You inhaled quickly, holding your breath when he squirted enough whipped cream to cover both your nipples before he set the can aside on the bed.

“Hm, I won’t be able to make a wish, will I?” he pretended to sound disappointed before he made eye contact with you. “Unless Miss Fairy here can also grant me my birthday wish?”

“What is your wish then, birthday boy?” You smiled at his playfulness.

“Will it come true if I say it aloud?” he wondered, leaning lower, letting the warmth of his breath brushed against your breast, a welcoming contrast to the cold cream that covered you.

Your breathing grew shaky, watching him with half-hooded eyes. “Te-tell me and we’ll find out together…”

“My love,” he whispered, his warm breath fanned against you once more, “I think you already know what I truly want…”

Zayne didn’t leave you any time to respond, his tongue already beginning to lick away the whipped cream from one breast. You squirmed from the stimulation, feeling his tongue brushed over your sensitive nipple.

His hands found your hips, gripping you tightly to keep you grounded beneath him. “Stay still,” he ordered, “I’m not finished with you yet.”

You felt that ever familiar coil tightening in your belly, conditioned to always listen to him when he used that particular stern tone with you. You whined again, feeling his tongue licked around your nipple thoroughly before he showed the same meticulous attention to your other breast.

Your cheeks felt warm again, face flushed with renewed arousal as you peered down at him.

“Za-Zayne, the whipped cream is already all gone,” you said feebly before your hand suddenly covered your mouth, suppressing your startled cry when he sucked on your nipple hard before parting and staring up at you with a pleased smirk.

“It’s my birthday,” he reminded you, “Am I not allowed to indulge?”

“Y-You—”

He stopped you before you could protest. “Whose idea was all of this?”

He grabbed your soaked panties, fingering the stained fabric with a look of amusement. “Those photos you’ve sent earlier today.”

“We-well, they were just…”

“Just…?”

“Just… a preview,” you attempted to explain, “I didn’t think you would come hom—”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed dismissively, grabbing the can of whipped cream again, “And this?”

“I didn’t have time to get you a cake, so I thought we could…”

One of Zayne’s eyebrows lifted up. He pretended to be puzzled, but you knew he saw through your flimsy act long ago. He interrupted you again, his tone sounding over-exaggeratedly thoughtful, “Ah, you thought we could have just the whipped cream in lieu of a birthday cake, is that correct, my love?” 

There was a stiff, noticeable silence after his question. You stared at him, lips twitching in annoyance briefly before you answered insolently, “Yes, just the whipped cream. You had said you would be working all da—”

“Open your mouth,” he interrupted once more, his tone commanding.

Confused, you obeyed him, opening your mouth a little.

“Wider,” he demanded.

Startled, you complied, unsure of what was going on in his head. You almost gasped when he squirted a decent-sized dollop of whipped cream into your mouth.

“Close,” he said with an amused smile.

You complied, tasting the lightly sweetened cream before it melted away on your tongue. Unconsciously, you licked your lips clean, almost wanting another taste of that cold sweet treat.

“This brand is delicious,” he said lightly, amused by the different expressions you had displayed in less than a minute because of this current situation. “We should buy another can tomorrow.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “Why tomorrow—"

“Now lay back down,” he ordered, pointedly ignoring your question.

You did as you were told, gazing up at him with utter confusion, having never seen him act so terse and dismissive with you like this before. It was… intriguing, and perhaps admittedly, even… arousing.

Your eyes followed Zayne’s movements, watching curiously as he shook the can several times, his own eyes never leaving yours. You wondered where he was planning on squirting the cream next, but as it turned out, you didn’t have to wait too long for an answer, because in the next instance, your body jolted on instinct when it felt that cold whipped cream squirted between your legs.

Instinctively, you wanted to close your legs, but Zayne kept them nudged apart. “Stay still,” he ordered again. He tossed the empty can of whipped cream off the bed before settling between your legs. He gripped your thighs, holding them apart as he leaned forward, his tongue running over the small mound of white cream in front of him.

Reflexively, your hand clamped over your mouth again, cry muffled when his tongue brushed against your sensitive lips.

“Don’t hide your voice,” he ordered, peering up long enough to see your flushed, aroused face, your trembling hand barely covering your face as you breathed shakily. He leaned forward, his tongue diving forward again, mouth pressed closer, tasting you as his hands gripped your trembling thighs tighter.

“Za-Zayne, it’s too much—”

He hummed back in response, showing no sign of slowing. Shakily, one of your hands pressed deeply into the mattress in an attempt to steady your balance while the other one found their way into Zayne’s hair, fingers wrapping around thick dark strands, tugging hard whenever he sucked deeply. Unwittingly, you thrusted your hips forward against his mouth.

“Zayne!"

He continued to only hum his replies, the only other noise besides the lewd sounds of him eating you out, hungrily tasting your slick essence. You threw your head back moaning, your entire body wracked with pleasure. “Ah… ah…”

“I will never get enough of you,” he mumbled. “I could spend my whole life devouring you and my appetite would never be fully satisfied—”

You could hear him groaning, his own voice sounding shakier than before. You peered down through half-opened eyes, your mouth opening wider in shock at seeing his right hand wrapped around his cock as he stroked himself urgently while he indulged in you.

Oh, god… Zayne…!

You could see the precum on the tip of his cock, the sight had you trembling with need. You struggled to find your voice before you were able to beg him hurriedly, “F-fuck me, fuck me, Zayne.”

He paused and looked at you, appearing to also be catching his breath now. Seeing the desperateness in your eyes, he smiled and leaned toward you, taking your lips for himself. You moaned in between his kisses, the weight of his body pressed you down into the mattress, keeping you trapped beneath him.

“Want my cock inside you?” He teased, his lips finding your neck.

Your hands steadied themselves on his strong, broad shoulders as he planted deep kisses along your neck, leaving his mark on you. You could feel yourself completely dripping, aching to have his cock inside you once more.

“Y-yes,” you said breathily.

“You were so close to coming just now,” he murmured almost thoughtfully, “Why did you stop me from making you cum?”

You moaned at how sweet his voice sounded. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, nudging your hips up closer to him, hearing his instant hiss of pleasure as you brushed against his erection. “In-inside me,” you gasped, “I want your cock inside me again. Want you to cum inside me again.”

“Is-is that so?” he asked breathlessly. He pressed a kiss to your temple.

You whined at him, feeling yourself clenching around nothing, needing him so much in this moment. The building desperation in you had robbed you of any inhibitions, your words were rushing out shamelessly as you voiced your desires to him: “Yes! Want your cock inside me, want to cum on your cock, want you to cum inside me—with me, please, Zaynie, please, want you to fuck your baby into me, please, Zayne!”

Zayne’s breathing grew erratic, feeling like he was getting dizzy by how sweetly obscene your tantalizing words and pleas were.

He wanted this as well, he realized. He wanted everything you were begging him for. Wanted so much and more.

“What a good girl you are,” he breathed, almost laughing in astonishment at what his ears were hearing. His fingers dove inside you again, delighting in the way you instantly moaned at the feeling before he pulled out, his fingers dripping again with your wetness. With that same hand, he let it wrapped around his cock again, stroking it leisurely as he covered himself with your essence before he guided himself to your waiting, willing entrance.

You squealed, feeling the tip pressing in and then more and more of him started to ease forward, dragging out a long, low moan from you as he filled you so deliciously full.

“Still this needy,” he groaned, “Still wanting to be stuffed full…”

You whined, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he pulled out slowly and thrusted back in. He continued this languid pacing, letting you stretch around him again before he started to build a faster rhythm.

“You didn’t want to cum by yourself earlier, did you, my love?”

“N-no…” you whimpered at him, meeting his own aroused gaze. “Want to cum with you, want us to cum together.”

He seized your lips, kissing you deeply before he groaned softly, his breath feeling so hot against your mouth. “So sweet…”

You leaned forward and kissed him back, wanting to taste him again. With your arms wrapped around him, holding tight, needing to feel the weight of him on you, you felt Zayne holding your legs apart, keeping you spread for him as he drove deeper and harder into you.

“Want me to cum in you again?” he asked, sounding like he was close.

You could feel your own climax was also approaching again. “Inside me,” you urged him with a gasp, “Want you to fuck your baby into me, please Zayne!”

He shuddered at your words, his pacing growing more brutal by the seconds. “I want this, too,” he panted. “Want to see your belly growing round with my baby.”

You smiled at him deliriously. “M-more… tell me more,” you pleaded, his words having a euphoric effect on you as you felt that familiar feeling of your approaching climax.

He smiled back, nearly laughing at your eagerness. “You like that, darling? Want to feel your body changing for me?”

“Oh, yes… yes!”

“Good girl,” he groaned when he felt you pulsing around him. “You are going to be even more beautiful when you are pregnant.”

“Ye-yeah?”

“Of course,” he breathed, “Seeing you carry my baby will be the most beautiful sight I will have ever seen.”

“Oh… oh, Zayne, h-hurry, almost—”

He was no longer thinking straight. Hearing the way your voice pleaded with him, feeling your climax was fast approaching and knowing he was just as close, he hurried with his words, his movements rushing, pounding into you harder and deeper.

“I need to see you in tight clothing,” he said, gasping, “Want to see how big and round your belly can get.”

You moaned in agreement. “Yes… yes, I want you to see what you did to me—”

Fuck. Zayne nearly gasped again, his hips stuttering as it seemed you were the one edging him now. His hands grabbed your hips, tightening his hold as he continued to pound into you at that same rushed pacing. “What I did to you?” he almost laughed in disbelief at how you could still manage to be this audacious with him even when you were also about to come undone because of him. He laughed again, this time in agreement. “Yes, you’re right. What I’m going to do to you.”

You whined as you felt the intensity of his movements. “Za-Zayne!”

“I’m going to give you everything you want. Everything that I want,” he said, letting his inhibitions go as he succumbed to his desires and to you, “I’m going to keep breeding you like this, like how I’ve been doing for weeks now. You like being bred like this, don’t you?”

“Yes, Zayne, yes!”

“Want me to fill your womb, want me to fuck my baby into you, is that it?”

You nodded at him.

“Say it.”

You cried, your walls pulsing around him had him groaning deeply. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes, Zayne! I want a baby. I want to have your baby! Please, please, cum inside me, breed me, don’t stop until you’ve knocked me up. I need you. I need you, Zaynie. Zayne—”

You screamed, his rushed movements suddenly stopping as he groaned deeply and came inside you right as your orgasm coursed through your body, leaving you crying in pure pleasure. He was gasping as he felt you milking him completely, your belly bulging enough to give the illusion that you had a small bump. He swallowed dry, the sight had him so lightheaded, he thought he was going to pass out.

He didn’t dare close his eyes, wanting the lascivious image of you spread out like this, taking all of his seed to be ingrained into his memory. It was such a beautiful sight, he thought, seeing how your body always reacting so euphorically to him.

In time, you felt the last aftershocks of your shared orgasms fading, felt him softening inside you, but Zayne continued to remain in your warmth, not wanting to part just yet. He cupped your cheek and you looked up, meeting his gentle smile.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing along your cheek in comfort.

You smiled back and nodded. As he pulled out, you gasped quietly, already missing the feeling of him buried inside you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Zayne said softly, already prepared to leave the bed, but he stopped when you reached for his wrist. He peered down with a soft smile, his eyebrow quirking up in puzzlement.

“Later,” you told him, tugging him back to the bed with you. “I want to cuddle with you right now.”

“It’s my birthday, but why do I feel like I’ve been the one to indulge in your whims?” he teased, though he allowed you to drag him into bed with you again. He laid down, smirking in amusement when you squirmed your way back into his arms, nestling comfortably in his warm, loving embrace.

You peered up at him, grinning as you matched his playfulness. “You better get used to it.”

He raised a brow in question, waiting for you to elaborate.

“When I’m pregnant,” you clarified with a wider grin, “You will cater to my whims, won’t you, Zaynie?”

He sighed and shook his head in disbelief. “You act like I don’t do that already on a day-to-day basis.”

Before you could make a retort, Zayne pressed a kiss to your temple, smiling kindly as he spoke, “I will be at your beck and call, Miss.”

You gasped and squirmed when he walked two fingers across your abdomen. Your cheeks turned rosy as you struggled to maintain composure. “Z-Zaynie…”

“Hm?”

“I… might not be pregnant yet…”

“We don’t know that you’re not either,” he countered with a smirk, delighting in your sudden coyness. He continued, “Let me pretend tonight. It’s still my birthday, is it not?”

You peeked at the clock on the nightstand. “Four more hours until midnight. So…”

You smiled with rosy cheeks when he leaned down and nuzzled his face against your flat stomach. Instinctively, you threaded your fingers through his hair. As you indulged in his whim, a sudden thought snuck its way into your mind, and you couldn’t help but pondered aloud, “What if…”

“What if what?” Zayne peered up at you, noticing your thoughtful tone and the way you seemed to trail off with your words.

“What if… we had conceived today?”

He looked at you in wonder.

“What if…” you continued, steadily growing bolder with your words, seeing the gleam of interest in Zayne’s eyes. “…we had conceived our baby… on your birthday?”

He laughed, seemingly tickled by the very idea. He sat up and leaned over to kiss you briefly. It was his turn to brush your hair aside as he gazed down at you fondly. “Wouldn’t that be a story in and of itself?”

“Surely, you are not planning on telling—”

“Our little secret, if that was the case,” he interrupted.

“Our dirty little secret?” you amended with a smile.

He sighed helplessly. “I wouldn’t put it that way…”

“I would,” you declared proudly.

“Of course, you would,” he said, deadpanned. Suddenly, Zayne blinked in surprise when you grabbed his wrist, laying his palm face up. He jerked from the tickling sensation when you glided the pad of your index finger across his palm. He furrowed his brows in confusion, asking, “What are you doing?”

“Sending you a message,” you said, beaming proudly. You giggled at his perplexed expression. “Here, I’ll start over.”

You dragged your finger down his palm, smiling when he reacted again to the tickling sensation. You held his hand tighter and made two short parallel strokes.

“‘I,’” Zayne said.

“Good job,” you praised brightly.

You continued with the next word, occasionally peeking up to catch Zayne’s reaction, seeing a knowing smile forming on his handsome face as he answered confidently:

“‘Love.’”

“Uh huh,” you said with a smile. You made a few more strokes for the last word.

“‘You,’” he finished happily, repeating, “‘I love you.’”

“You are such a smart boy, Zaynie,” you praised again with a wider grin.

“I love you,” he said once more, leaning toward you with one hand cradling your cheek. He sighed again, his smile unwavering and infectious. “I love you.”

He was overwhelming you, drowning you with his sweet love confession, repeating over and over again that one sentence until it seemed like his heartfelt words and devotion were seared into your very soul.

You returned his affections, kissing him back and savoring this sweet intimate moment with him, a treasured memory for you to selfishly lock away in a keepsake box just for yourself. Likewise, you knew this was also a night he would never forget, another moment with you for him to add to his unending collection of cherished memories.

Sweet nothings were exchanged, along with laughter and giggles, and passing kisses in between. Time seemed to move so much faster when you were with him, you realized with despondency, wishing you could slow this moment down, to linger in this afterglow, in this quiet world of you and him.

You kissed him slowly, kissed him sweetly, letting yourself fall deeper under his spell, whisked away by a love so tender and true. You let the passion between you both guided you through the night, let your body welcomed him back in, sinking down on his length, feeling every glorious inch filled you again as he peered up at you with vibrant green eyes.

To have and to hold, you answered his moans with soft sighs, moving with him with practiced ease, feeling every stroke as he guided you up and down, his hold on your hips tightening more and more as you both neared your release.

“Z-Zayne—!”

His lips found yours, and you embraced him once more, relishing in feeling his heat so close to your own. As the night carried on, before the stroke of midnight announced the arrival of a brand-new day, you whispered back, your lips to his and your heart forever his:

“Happy birthday, my love.”

Tag list: @lavlynyan @rainbowsnowflake @jasmines-greentea @notisekais @solifloris @natimiles @callilypso @likewhyareyousoobsessedwithme @littleapplle @alfredosaws @nezuswritingdesk @valkyyriia @yourlocalcatscammer @qyuin @ladsarchivee 【 request to be added 】

[kiribakuhawks]

EXCUSE ME

WE DO WHAT NOW??

[insultedluminarydragon]

WHY!? as if I wasn't down bad enough.. why is Sylus' new memory card so tickle coded!

I just want to tickle him so bad 😵‍💫🥵

[highdefhoetry]

played around with glint photobooth today and realized i could make this

[lovelynim]

Fabi fabiii~ may I request ZAYNE x reader (I'll block you if you write Caleb), please~?

Lee!Zayne hehehehehe maybeeeee he's a little drunk and a little giggly? 🥺🥺🥺 But whatever is fine honestly!

Also, feel free to ignore this if it doesn't inspire you! Thank you! I love you MWAAAH 💕

[Requests open]

Hello my dearest dear! I'm glad you decided to stop by and I hope you like this little crooked drabble, ehe

You giggled as Zayne tripped over his own feet. He probably would have fallen face first if it weren’t for you supporting him. “Zayne, I think you’re drunk,” you teased, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you slowly guided him towards his car. 

“I’m- …not,” Zayne narrowed his eyes, trying to get his sight to work again while the world seemed to spin around you and him. “I’m fine, but I- I appreciate the concern. You can let me go-”

“I can not, you’ll fall,” you retorted, stopping by the side of his car and letting him lean against. “Where are the keys?”

“...what?”

“Sigh, the car keys, Zayne. How am I supposed to drive without them?” You chuckled, you couldn’t even get mad at him. It was so fun to see him so lethargic - so unlike him.

“You will… drive my car?” He asked, blinking slowly like some sort of lizard, “but I can drive, I’m fi-iHih- w-wait, whahat are you dohoing?”

“There is no way I’m letting you drive us home. I should get you a fine just for thinking of doing it right now,” you scolded, understanding you’d be getting nowhere before sunrise if you were going to wait for him to take action. You reached for his pockets, palming and poking around his waist, hips and even up to his ribs.

Of course, you knew the car keys wouldn’t be there, but since you were already at it, what’s the harm? “C’mon, where did you put them?”

“I-I dohohon’t remember! A-Ahah, let meheh think,” Zayne giggled, leaning against the car and turning his face away as he laughed, his face getting even redder.

“You don’t know where you left your own car keys? And you wanted me to let you-”

“Ah!”

“Found them,” you smirked, your hand groping his asscheek. You squeezed it a couple times before sliding your hand into the pocket on the back of his pants.

“...was that necessary?”

“I don’t know, think about it when you’re sober. Now get in, let me take you home, yes? ~”

[strawberriesinbloom]

Fairy Light Flurries

Zayne/Gender-Neutral Reader

Summary: You pick Zayne up from work and relax in your apartment together. Unfortunately for Zayne, your mischievous tendencies can be a bit distracting.

Word Count: 4,098

A/N: Hello, @ticklygiggles!! I was your @squealing-santa this year. :) I hope you enjoy this silly little fic.

This is a tickle fic btw!

~🍓~

As you stood near the front entrance of Akso Hospital, you stared at your phone, spamming your favorite doctor with several text messages to announce your presence. You knew Zayne wouldn’t answer your messages for a while, even though his shift ended a few minutes ago. He was a hard worker, which you admired about him.

A cold breeze cut through the air, and you shivered, drawing your coat closer to your body. Tiny snow flurries scattered throughout the air, dusting your wool hat with white snowflakes. Some of them caught onto your eyelashes. You blinked them away.

Downtown was quite pretty during this time of year. Fairy lights were strung along the buildings, emitting a warm, yellow glow. Some were multi-colored, and others had lights that changed color each second. Red, green, and white banners and garlands wrapped around the light poles.

It was quiet out here save for the occasional sound of a car passing through. You supposed most people didn’t want to be outside when it was so cold. Another breeze passed through. You didn’t blame them.

Your phone buzzed.

You didn’t even get to read the notification before a soft, deep voice sighed behind you.

“You could have waited inside of the lobby, you know?” Zayne shook his head as he stepped closer to you. Snow crunched under his shoes. “Or my office.” He wore a large, brown jacket over his outfit. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets.

You laughed. “Yeah, but this is more romantic, isn’t it?” You held out your arms to your sides. “The snow. The lights. It’s so pretty out here. I couldn’t help it.”

Zayne puckered his lips. If you didn’t know better, you would have said it almost looked like he was pouting. “I don’t want you to catch a cold.” He readjusted your hat, making sure it covered your ears. “I can’t believe the Hunters Association is forcing you to work during the holidays.”

“I could say the same thing for you,” you said, pulling at his scarf. Not expecting you to do that, Zayne took an awkward step forward. You evened out the ends before forming a loop and tying it up, so it held closer against his neck. You smiled at his surprised expression and pinched his cheek.

“I chose to work this week,” he said quietly.

“Me too.”

Zayne shot you a quiet smile. You both were workaholics, practically married to your respective jobs. Despite the surface-level differences, you and Zayne were very much alike–at least in that regard.

“Come,” he said, jerking his head to the side. “I’ll drive you home.”

You took his hand as he led you to his car. Zayne always parked in the same spot, so you didn’t need him to lead you, but you just wanted an excuse to hold his hand. He wasn’t wearing gloves, but his hands were still surprisingly warm. How did he manage that?

“Home?” you repeated with a snort. “Do you mean yours or mine?”

Zayne hummed as he opened the passenger side of the door. You sat inside, shivering when your body came in contact with the leather seats. “Your choice,” he said. He closed the door and entered the driver’s side, swiftly starting the car.

You tapped your index finger against your lip. “Mine,” you answered after a while. “I want you to stay the night.”

“Sounds good,” Zayne said as he drove out of the parking lot.

A few minutes into the drive, you rested your chin against your palm. The colorful lights seemed to blur into one as you passed by. You were tempted to press your cheek against the window, but you knew it would be freezing, so you held yourself back.

“How was work?” you asked, simply wanting to fill the air with something. It didn’t matter what you and Zayne talked about. You just liked being with him.

Zayne took a moment to respond, as though he was recalling what happened today. “It was fine,” he finally said.

You waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. “That’s it?”

Zayne shrugged. “Not every day can be as interesting as yours.” The hint of a laugh tinged the end of his sentence. “How was work for you?”

“Oh, you know, nothing much,” you said while straightening your posture. “I just saved a mother and daughter from a Wanderer attack.” You flexed your muscles. “No biggie.”

“My hero,” Zayne said. For a second, you thought he was being sarcastic, but his tone sounded strangely sincere.

Unsure what to do with this change in atmosphere, you stared at your lap. “I like waiting for you when you’re done with work,” you said quietly, changing the subject. You knew it was a sudden shift, but you didn’t know what else to say. “It’s the favorite part of my day.”

“Mine too,” Zayne answered.

“Really?” you asked with a slight chuckle.

Zayne spared you a singular glance. Your heart skipped a beat. “Yes, really,” he said. You smiled warmly. You were about to say something else when Zayne interrupted. “We’re here.”

You perked up. “We are?” You looked around and, indeed, you and Zayne were in the parking lot of your apartment complex. “Wow, that was fast.”

Zayne laughed in response. “How time flies.” He stepped out of the car.

Before he could open the passenger door for you, you stepped out and slammed the door shut. Zayne didn’t respond but you did catch him frowning slightly. You stopped his chance to be a gentleman. Hopefully, he didn’t mind too much. You skipped over to him and grabbed his arm as you walked over to your apartment.

There wasn’t any snow or ice on the pavement. The road crew must have come earlier to salt the streets and parking lots. That was good. You wouldn’t have to worry about Zayne slipping and falling. You knew his fancy dress shoes weren’t built for this weather unlike your sturdy boots.

The heat hit you at full blast the second you entered the lobby. It felt comforting–like someone wrapping a large, fluffy blanket around your body.

“I have some spare pajamas in the guest room,” you explained, making your way over to the elevator. “You can take those.” The doors opened with a ding and you stepped inside.

Zayne smiled as he pressed the button to your floor. “They’re my size?”

“Of course,” you said. “It’s always good to be prepared.” You shook your shoulders. “I learned that from a certain doctor.” When the elevator opened, you stepped out and walked over to your room.

The moment you unlocked it and stepped inside, Zayne leaned over and hugged you. You nestled your nose into the crook of his neck, taking in his scent. He smelled like peppermint, and his skin felt smooth to the touch. You kissed his jaw, and Zayne pressed his lips against your cheek. While you wouldn’t call Zayne shy per se, he was definitely the type to be reserved when it came to public displays of affection. It was cute.

“I missed you,” he muttered against your skin.

You giggled and tried to pull away. He pulled you back into his embrace for a few more seconds until he finally let you go. His hands lingered on your upper arms as his thumbs softly caressed you.

“Me too,” you said. With a split second of hesitation, Zayne pulled back to start unbuttoning his jacket. You tugged his sleeve. “Wait, let me get that for you.” He stilled, and you helped him peel off his jacket. You hung it on the coat rack next to the front door with a short flourish.

Taking a quick peek in his pockets, you noticed he had one of those hand-warming packets in there. That sneaky doctor. No wonder his hands were so warm earlier. You wondered if he did that on purpose, knowing you would try to hold his hand. Zayne’s thoughtfulness always made your lips curve into a small, appreciative grin. He tried to be subtle with these things, but you knew how much he truly cared for you.

“Thank you,” Zayne said as he untied his scarf and placed it next to his jacket on the rack.

“Go get changed,” you said. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”

Zayne nodded and went to the guest room. You stepped into your bedroom to change into your nightwear before heading to the kitchen and opening the last cabinet on the right. Way in the back was the matching snowman mugs you got for the both of you last year. They were meant to be used for special occasions, and sharing a warm drink in your abode counted, at least, in your opinion.

A part of you wanted to make hot chocolate from scratch, but after the long day of work you had, the mere thought of it made you want to pass out. You had to settle for the instant packet stuff instead.

It didn’t take long for you to prepare the mugs of hot chocolate considering how all you had to do was microwave some milk and stir in the powder. Zayne came up from behind you while you were in the middle of stirring. He had changed fairly quickly. The light blue pajama set suited him. He placed his hands on your shoulders, squeezing them.

“You should add a pinch of sugar in mine,” Zayne said. He pressed the side of his head against your ear. You could hear him swallow at the end of his sentence.

“Sugar?” you repeated. “This is the powder stuff. It’s already sweet,” you clarified, thinking that Zayne would see the error in his ways.

Zayne glanced at the open box of instant hot chocolate on the counter. “I know,” he said. “It’s just a pinch.”

You should have known. Zayne’s proclivity for sweets had no bounds. Just as he asked, you added a spoonful of sugar to his mug (and then another when he gave you puppy dog eyes). He would have denied it if asked directly, but you knew what he was like.

With your mugs of hot chocolate, you and Zayne sat in the living room. “Do you have any preferences?” you asked as you picked up the remote. You turned on the television and scrolled through the wide array of movies.

“Not particularly,” he said, sipping on his drink.

“Alright.”

You played a random holiday movie that was featured on the front page of the streaming platform. From its summary, it seemed like a decent watch: a meet-cute romance between a hunter and a businessman. Apparently, the hunter teaches the businessman about the magic of the holidays. You settled next to Zayne once the music began to play. He lazily laid his arm around your back.

The beginning of the movie was cute, but your mind began to wander halfway through. As the movie droned on, your eyelids started to droop down. All your hours spent awake working and saving the day were beginning to catch up to you. You were almost finished with your drink by now.

Placing your mug on the coffee table, you leaned into Zayne’s side. He hummed and set down his mug next to yours before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and lying down, dragging you down with him.

“What?” you asked as you awkwardly fell over him. You shuffled around until you were lying down on his side, pressed against him and the back pillow of the couch.

Zayne kissed the top of your head. “You’re feeling tired, are you not?” The gentle drum of his heartbeat almost lulled you directly to sleep. He lowered his voice, so it was barely above a whisper. “You can sleep. Don’t worry.”

You turned your head to the side, nuzzling your nose against his chest. “Okay,” you said with a yawn. “Tell me how the movie ends.”

You hugged his side, your arm worming underneath the small of his back. You sighed as the movie became nothing more than background noise. The rise and fall of Zayne’s chest kept you steady. Every so often, his breath tickled your cheeks. You smiled, your fingers flexing against his back.

Zayne stiffened, and you raised your head slightly. “What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Nothing,” Zayne said, petting the top of your head. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered into your ear.

“Are you sure?” you asked. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. You tried to pull your arm from underneath him, but it was stuck–pinned against the couch by his weight.

Zayne squirmed, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Yes, I’m sure. It’s just…” Zayne stopped when he saw your expression. You weren’t going to let this go, and he knew it. Zayne bit his lip, his ears suddenly flushing red. “It just tickles. A bit.”

You propped yourself up on your other arm. “Does it?” Experimentally, you curled your fingers, watching in awe as Zayne arched his back. That allowed you to pry your arm from under him. He gave you a pleading expression–like he was begging you to drop your discovery, but how could you?

“Please–” Zayne said, cutting himself off when you clasped his side and squeezed it. “I’m not th–that ticklish…” He bit his bottom lip as you dragged your nails over his stomach. His abs tensed under your feather-light touch. “…so you caha–!!”

Zayne gasped as you suddenly launched your attack across his stomach just above his belly button. He scrunched up his nose, refusing to laugh. He was always so stubborn. You moved over, so you were now sitting on his lap.

“I think you’re more than ‘a bit’ ticklish,” you said.

His lips were caught in an awkward half-smile that he was desperately trying to keep at bay. Zayne grabbed your wrists, temporarily stopping your pursuits. “Don’t you want to finish the movie?” he asked with the tiniest bit of desperation at the edge of his voice. His fingertips quivered against your skin. Even though you weren’t tickling him anymore, he was still trembling.

“This is much more interesting than some movie.” You pulled your hands out of his grip and latched onto his hips. Zayne bucked up on instinct, and you laughed as he almost bounced you into the air. “Wouldn’t you agree?” You massaged the skin, taking care to dig deeper at the spots that made him jerk especially hard.

His eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to stop himself from succumbing to your touch, but you were far, far too powerful. “I–ehehehmhm…” Zayne giggled breathily. It was satisfying to see him break albeit a little. He seemed to be at a loss for words, his cheeks dusting a light pink. His smile, now much wider, wobbled slightly.

Zayne was still trying to half-heartedly stop your devious hands, but it felt more like a kitten pawing at your arms than anything else. You wondered if that was his way of allowing you to keep going. Surely if he genuinely wanted you to stop, he would have put his foot down by now. Alas, Zayne was putty in your hands. You were one of his few weaknesses.

Your fingers slowly wandered up his torso as they made their way to his ribs. Zayne jumped, clamping his arms to his sides. This seemed to be a much more sensitive area, which you took to your full advantage. “Is this a bad spot, Dr. Zayne?” you asked in a light-hearted tone. “Are you too ticklish for your own good?” You clawed at the soft skin in between the grooves of his ribs.

If you were particularly evil, you might have even tried to tickle him underneath his shirt, but you were feeling a little merciful today.

Zayne squeezed his eyes shut, seemingly no longer able to look at you. “Behehe quiehehet!” he suddenly cackled. “Dohohon’t tickle me there! Eheheh!” He grabbed at your upper arms but didn’t try too much to stop you. Even though you were nowhere near his hips, they still jerked and flinched with every new spot you explored.

“So I can tickle you somewhere else, then?” you teased.

“Nohoho!” he gasped out. Zayne turned his head from side to side as he attempted to wiggle out from underneath you. It was no use, however. You were simply too determined. “Stahahap!”

His laughter was deep and almost husky, peppered with the occasional gasp or winded yelp. It was beautiful. Zayne twitched and jumped with each poke and prod. He was so sensitive. It enamored you. You wished Zayne would laugh like this more often. The sound needed to be captured in a bottle and tossed out to the sea for everyone to have a chance to hear.

“You’re so beautiful, Zayne,” you said softly.

You wondered what Zayne would have said if you weren’t tickling the life out of him. He tossed his head back and cackled when you started digging your fingers deep into the soft fleshy parts of his sides. “Ahahahaha! I–I cahahan’t–!” He squealed, squirming from side to side. “I cahan’t tahahahahake it anymore!” Zayne tried to curl up into a ball, but he couldn’t do that with you sitting on his legs.

“Do that again!” you said, trying to elicit that same squeaky squeal. You dragged your nails up and down his sides, but you weren’t as lucky this time. Oh well.

“This ihihihis too muhuhuch!” Zayne managed to giggle out. He kicked his legs out from underneath you, but you held yourself steady. “Hhh…ehehey!” His shirt rode up a bit, revealing a sliver of rosy pale skin. A slight sheen of sweat glistened against his toned stomach, and you realized that you were, indeed, evil. Very evil.

You targeted his exposed skin. Your fingertips immediately latched onto his bare stomach, tickling him there. His muscles flexed instinctively underneath your touch. You dug your thumbs into his soft warm skin, and he jumped. The way his stomach shuddered with each gasp of breath in between wild laughter made you want him more. You could simply devour him.

Not wanting to go too far, you slowed down. Now, you were lightly dragging your fingers up and down the sides of his stomach. “I like hearing your laughter,” you said quietly, “It’s lovely.” You were barely speaking above a murmur, so you weren’t sure if he could hear you much less understand your words.

“Hehehmmhmm…” Tiny droplets of tears clung to Zayne’s eyelashes, sparkling under the soft overhead light. It took him a moment to realize what you just said, but when he did, Zayne flushed a nice shade of red. His cheeks twitched as residual snickers spilled past his lips. “Thank you,” he mumbled awkwardly. You didn’t blame him. It was an odd compliment considering the circumstances. It was nice seeing him all embarrassed. Zayne shifted slightly, staring off to the side. “I uhahahAHAHA!”

Unfortunately, that little moment of peace had to come to an end because you were once again overcome with the same ruthless mood that started this mess. You began tickling his armpits. He flinched–hard. It didn’t take long for you to find a spot at the very center of his underarms that made him cackle. Your thumbs drilled directly into his armpits, and you snickered at the way he jolted.

“Whoa,” you said in between your own giggles.

“WAHAHAIT!” he practically screamed. “Not thehehehere! Nohot thehereee…!” Zayne managed to flip himself over on his side even though you had been sitting on his legs. Huh. You sat on your knees, hovering over his lower body. He crossed his arms to his chest, effectively blocking you from tickling him. “Ehehehe,” he giggled.

“Come on, please, Zayne?” you asked. “Just five more minutes?” You tried to lift his arm, but he wouldn’t budge.

“No,” Zayne said, slightly out of breath.

You puckered your lips. “What? You can’t handle a little bit of tickling?” You poked down the length of his arm with each word. “Are you too ticklish?”

He shivered. “I’m not–” Zayne began to protest before he thought better of it. He puffed out his cheeks and corrected himself. “I’m not that ticklish.”

You pressed your index finger into his cheek. “I beg to differ.”

“Be quiet.”

You chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry. I think it’s cute.”

“Cute,” Zayne repeated under his breath. “That isn’t a word most people would use to describe me.”

“Well, most people don’t know you the way I do.”

Brushing his bangs out of the way, you leaned down and kissed his temple. His forehead was a bit damp. Probably from sweat. Oops.

Zayne closed his eyes and nodded. Then, to your surprise, he lifted his arm. “Five more minutes,” he said quietly. He glanced at you for a brief second before diverting his attention elsewhere. His ears were redder than you had ever seen them.

You blinked. You blinked again. You were tempted to scoop Zayne in a hug and kiss him repeatedly, but you couldn’t waste this opportunity. Your heart pounded in your chest. Who knew when you would get this chance again?

You reached over and–

Zayne flinched, bringing his arm down before you got close to his underarm. “Sorry, sorry,” he muttered under his breath. He repositioned himself, so he was lying down on his back, again.

“I’m surprised most people don’t call you cute,” you said, pinning his arm above his head. “They’re really missing out on this side of you.”

You lightly dragged the tips of your nails around his underarm, and Zayne’s body went rigid. He bit the inside of his cheek to probably stop himself from breaking into laughter right away, but the way he puckered his lips and scrunched up his face told you everything you needed to know.

Zayne let out an odd, strangled hum, and you knew he was done for. “Aha–ahAHAhaha!” He hiccuped before his laughter softened into sweet giggles.

“Aw, you’re so–”

You weren’t able to finish your sentence because of Zayne’s abrupt cackle when you started clawing at his armpit. “Eeehehahh…HAHA!”

“That was a weird noise,” you said. You prodded at his sensitive skin, wiggling and swirling your thumbs against it as much as you could.

“Shhhehehahaha…shut uhuhuhp!” His free arm lightly batted away at you, but you didn’t let that deter you.

You puckered your lips into a fake pout. “Seriously, Zayne? How rude.” You dug your fingers into his armpit.

You loosened your grip on Zayne’s arm, and it immediately came crashing down, pressing it up against himself. You took this as an opportunity to tickle his other underarm, as well. You quickly spidered your fingers, targeting any spot you could manage.

“AHAHA! Wahahait! Wahait!” The corners of Zayne’s eyes crinkled as he tossed his head to the side, filling the room with the melodious sound of his laughter. “St-stahaHAHAP! I cahahan’t take it! I’m seriOUS! Hahaha!”

Zayne grabbed your hands, prying you off of him. Deciding to be nice, you stopped. You stole a quick kiss from his lips, which was still quirked up in a wide, sappy grin. He sighed as his chest heaved up and down. His chest trembled while he tried to catch his breath.

“You good?” you asked.

Zayne nodded breathlessly. His fingers twitched at his sides. For a moment, you thought he was going to exact his revenge before he grabbed your shoulders. He pulled you down, and you clumsily fell on him with a soft gasp. He liked doing this to you, didn’t he?

“Don’t tease me anymore,” he said into your ear. His voice was slightly weak with just a hint of a pant. He pulled you into a hug, embracing you with two strong arms. “I don’t think I will be able to handle it tonight.” His warm breath brushed against the shell of your ear. You shivered.

You smiled against his collarbone. “I’ll try not to,” you said, cuddling him. “No promises, though.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Hmm…love you, Zayne,” you whispered into his shirt.

“I love you, too.” He kissed your forehead.

You closed your eyes with a small, content sigh. Zayne’s warmth and peppermint fragrance soothed you. His steady breathing slowed down into long, deep exhales. His chest rose and fell against you, bringing your head up and down with him. You hummed. The witty reply in the back of your mind soon dissipated into nothing but flurries and fairy lights.

Somewhere in the background, the movie finished with the two romantic leads caught in a passionate kiss outside in the snow.

[ticklygiggles]

Lovelynim's tickletober Day 24: Bullying

Rafayel x Reader

A/N: it's late but it's here @homurasturtle MY LOVELY ❤️💖 I hope you enjoy yourself bullying fishie 🤭 give him his ticklies love 🥺🤗

"Ouchie, ouchie, ouchie!" Rafayel cried as you clung to his neck and nibbled on his cheek. Your teeth barely sinking into his skin, yet he made a big deal about it, acting as if his cheeks weren't blushing and his lips weren't curled into a smile.

Paint was all over the floor and your clothes. Him trying to teach you how to paint had ended in a paint fight that Rafayel lost miserably.

You giggled, feeling strangely playful as he whined your name over and over, trying to suppress his laughter as you started to press wet kisses against his cheek and ear.

"Ack! Let go! You're so- ack!" Sitting with your legs folded in a lotus position, you took Rafayel's wrist and pulled him right into the gap between your legs. He flushed to his ears and tried to get up, but your arms wrapped around his waist tightly. "M-Miss h-hunter, aaack! C-Cutie! W-Wait! Wait! This is bullying! This is definitely bullyhihihing! Nohoahahaha!"

Rafayel threw his head back and squirmed around as your evil little fingers started to tickle his sides, ribs and waist. He practically collapsed onto your lap, his back arched over one of your legs as your fingers clawed at his ribs. He was laughing wildly, tears already clinging and shining against his long eyelashes. His bright smile set butterflies free in your tummy and you couldn't help but giggle along with him.

"Thihihis is so unfahahair!"

"Hmmm... yeah you're right!" He shrieked, kicking his legs slightly and incoordinately trying to catch your hands to no avail. "Are you ticklish, little fishie? How is it possible that a cute fishies like you can be so ticklish, hmm? Are all Lemurians as ticklish as you?"

"STAHAHAP! Y-You ahahare the w-worst huhuman to eveheher- AHAHAH! I'm s-sorry!"

Now that his underarms were under attack, he really didn't have much to say, huh? You laughed, stealing kisses to his red cheeks as he squealed and begged for mercy.

'A fishie like me cannot sweat!'

'Agh! Leave my stupid armpits alone!'

'Reddie, help meee!'

You giggled, "look at your master, Reddie. He's so ticklish, poor thing."

"J-Juhuhust you wahahait untihihil I g-get you b-ba- nohoho! No! It's a lihihihie! Gahahaha, cuhuhutie!"

He was so adorable, you didn't think you would be able to stop anytime soon! Besides, it wasn't like he actually wanted you to stop, right~?

[astheskycries]

Ok but... Sylus, Zayne and MC tickle fight. I need it.

[happyluckystars]

Quills are for playing around apparently🪶

(I need to be more active here)

[bunnyy-123]

aw

[zomgcaleb]

I need to suck a fat hickey right onto caleb’s adams apple like a cute little leech

[lovelynim]

TickleTober2024/Day 02 - Accident

Love and Deepspace - Sylus x Reader

Don’t laugh, you told yourself inside your head. He will get even angrier, you added, nodding to yourself as you wiped the puddle of wine on top of the dining table. 

Still, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied with the whole scene that just unfolded before your very own eyes. Who could imagine Mephisto would act up and knock a glass full of expensive, really expensive wine and pretty much ruin your night?

You did. And you warned Sylus about it. “He is going to behave,” Sylus told you, a couple minutes before this unfortunate episode.

You had to bite your lips to strain yourself from pointing at him and say “I told you so”, knowing this wouldn’t help at all. But, of course, it would feel good. Amazing, even.

“I told you I’d call someone to clean it, kitten,” Sylus sighed, rubbing circles against the side of his head while keeping his eyes closed. “Are you trying to steal someone else’s work?”

Rolling your eyes, you tossed the damped napkin into a nearby tray, trying to not make another mess in the dining room. “I’m trying to help and you still find a way to complain?” You scoffed, chuckling while shaking your head, “you should be thankful I’m giving you a hand. This is your fault.”

“My fault?” Sylus hummed, arching his eyebrow, “it’s called an accident, kitten.”

“One you could’ve prevented,” you snapped back, looking down at him in his seat defiantly. It was then, however, that you noticed the wine didn’t spill over the table only, but also all over his lap. 

A loud, mocking-like laugh escaped your lips. “One you should have prevented, better saying.”

Sylus didn’t respond to that last comment, frowning and narrowing his eyes as he looked away, his chin resting against the back of his head. Oh, he was angry. Still, this was too good to be let out of the hook like that.

“Come on, I’m just teasing you,” you said, deciding to show some compassion for him. You picked up another dry napkin and quickly approached him, towering over his seat. “Here, let me help you.”

“What are you doi- hmph!” Sylus tensed up suddenly as you brushed the napkin against his thighs. You could clearly see his jaw pressing up and his hand tightening the grip around the armrest. What in the-

“Are… you ok?” You said, moving a little closer and resting your hand over his knee before dragging the napkin over his lap again. This time, however, he stopped you halfway into the swiping. 

“K-Kitten,” he coughed, taking a deep breath before looking at you while holding your wrist, “there’s… no need to, really.”

You blinked, confused. “What's wrong? Let me help you-”

“Don’t- ah!” Sylus gasped and froze on the spot. It took a second for you to process why he didn’t want you touching his thighs, but once realization settled in, you couldn’t help but smirk at him.

“Oh, Sylus, did it tickle?”

He sighed, again, trying to intimidate you with a piercing look. “Kitten,” he mumbled, hoping it would work.

Well, it didn’t. “Sorry, it was just an accident. Let me try it again ~”

A/N: Is it still an accident if we do it on purpose? Well, who knows ~

Anyway, I'd like to gift this one prompt to @ppystkposts, because she pesterted me during 3 days to write it and witnessed me suffering during the process (jk, i love you)

Thank you all for sticking by and see you tomorrow with the next prompt ~

[strawberriesinbloom]

Smile for the Picture

Zayne/Gender-Neutral Reader

Summary: It's time to take some cute pictures at the photo booth! But wait...Zayne isn't smiling. Good thing you have a solution.

Word Count: 1,788

This is a tickle fic btw!

~🍓~

You trekked around the mall with a penguin plushie in one hand and Zayne’s hand in the other. His fingers were quite cold, which you would have normally assumed was due to his Evol, but you knew it was because he had only just thrown away the extra-large slushie he had bought earlier. It was cute how Zayne couldn’t resist sweets, but dang, couldn’t he have bought a piece of candy or a treat that was a little warmer?

Zayne absentmindedly brushed his thumb against your hand, only stopping when you halted in the middle of the mall. “What’s wrong?” he asked, scanning the area in front of you. There wasn’t anything of note except for the department stores, a couple of kiosks selling jewelry, and one other thing. 

You pointed toward the far side of the wall near where a couple of shoppers were milling about. “Photo booth,” you said dreamily. It was honestly a pretty small thing, but the glittery lights and the cutesy polka dots that decorated the small pink and blue box told you everything you needed to know. 

“Ah, is that all?”

“What do you mean?” You wagged an index finger in front of his face. “This is a Twinkle Photo Booth! I heard the mall was getting one, but I didn’t know it was going to be this soon.” You tugged on Zayne’s arm. “Do you want to take a photo with me?”

Zayne sighed. A helpless look briefly crossed his face. You knew that he was incapable of saying no to you. You could be very persuasive when you wanted to be. 

He nodded, allowing you to drag him across the mall. “Fine, let’s take a couple of photos.”

You laughed victoriously and slipped inside the photo booth with Zayne trailing behind you. You placed your penguin plushie on one side of the bench so that Zayne could sit on your other side. When he settled next to you, he reached over and dragged the curtain closed to give you two some privacy. Before you could get your wallet out, Zayne had already fed the money into the machine. He paid for a standard four-photo set.

You pretended to pout. “I was going to pay.”

“Too bad. I already did,” he said.

“So cold.” You shook your head playfully and turned to face the camera in front of you. The screen below it lit up, and you could see you and Zayne staring back at yourselves. Unfortunately, your plushie was a bit too short to be properly seen, so you picked it up and pressed it against your chest. A countdown was displayed on the screen, and you pulled out your patented peace sign—the perfect photo booth pose. Although your smile was dazzling and took up half of your face, Zayne’s expression looked like he had just seen a car crash. His eyebrows were furrowed, with his lips stuck perpetually in a straight line. 

The camera flashed. It had taken your first photo. 

You wrinkled your nose. “Zayne? Why aren’t you smiling?”

He tilted his head to the side, seemingly genuinely puzzled. “What do you mean? I am smiling.” Zayne pointed to his lips, which had not budged a centimeter. 

“No, you’re not,” you said. “You look so serious.” You placed your penguin plush to the side. “We’re not in the hospital right now, Dr. Zayne. You can afford to relax.” You waggled your shoulders playfully, which only seemed to confuse Zayne even more. 

“Not everyone can have your bubbly demeanor,” he teased, brushing a lock of hair across your forehead. 

“Maybe not,” you reluctantly agreed, “but everyone can smile.” You leaned closer to Zayne and pinched his torso.

He jolted, his back straightening up. “What are you doing?” he asked. His words came out slightly rushed, and if you listened closely, you could hear the smallest wobble at the end of his sentence.

You squeezed the area just above his hip, and Zayne lurched away from your touch. “What does it look like? I’m just trying to help.”

Your fingers danced up his sides, causing Zayne to push himself against the back of the wall. “Stahap that–!” he giggled. His cheeks turned red at the sound of his own laughter. 

Another flash! Second photo down.

You spidered your fingertips up and down his ribs, which made Zayne choke on his spit. “But you have such a pretty smile,” you said.

It was true. Sunlight seemed to beam directly on Zayne’s face as his laughter danced in the air. It was alluring—almost impossible to look away from. His lips curled up shakily as though his body wasn’t used to doing something that seemed second nature to you. 

“Waihihit, plehease!” He curled in on himself, but that didn’t stop you from pivoting to tickle his thighs. “Ahahah!” Zayne kicked out in surprise, but you dodged him. You had years of hunter training to thank for that. “Someone wihihill hear us!” He bit his lips to try to muffle the sounds of his own giggling, but it wasn’t particularly effective. 

“I think that’s…” You stopped when you felt something awkwardly grasping at your stomach. Zayne had managed to fight back from your so-called tickle torture. His fingers flexed against your shirt once and then twice when you didn’t react. Zayne’s face scrunched up slightly—the same way it did when he was dealing with a difficult case. “Ah, sorry, Zayne, but I’m not very ticklish myself.”

A third flash. One more to go.

He perked up in surprise, but kept trying to tickle you, and you had to admire how persistent he was being. Although Zayne didn’t look like it at first glance, he could be quite stubborn. While that personality trait was effective when researching potential treatments for his patients, he was only locked in a losing battle right now.

Zayne tried clawing at your sides and then your hips, but all you did was shrug. “But you used to be.” He was referring to the tickle fights you would have as children. They were admittedly few and far between (Zayne seemed reluctant to touch you as children), but you vaguely recalled that the two of you seemed to be on a somewhat equal playing field whenever you did fight.

“I suppose I grew out of it.” Your eyes twinkled mischievously. “And you didn’t.”

Zayne frowned. It almost looked like he was pouting. You weren’t sure if that or his smile was cuter. “I don’t understand.” He half-heartedly drilled his thumbs into your underarms. “You are the most vivacious, lively person I know. You find humor in everything, and I can rarely find you without a smile or a joke up your sleeve.” He squeezed your sides in defeat. “How are you not ticklish?”

You laughed, but only at how surprisingly childish Zayne was being. You didn’t expect him to be so hung up on what was practically nothing. You took this opportunity to sneak in another attack. Your fingertips glided up his lower back, and Zayne gasped. He tried to push you away, but you latched onto his armpits. He managed to fight off his laughter for just a few seconds before breaking into a light, airy sort of giggle. His voice was deep but surprisingly carefree, or as carefree as he could have been with you being a little shit. 

“Honestly, I’m more surprised about you, Dr. Zayne.” You prodded at his armpits, which seemed to drive Zayne up the wall. He trembled and twitched in a desperate attempt to get away from you.

“Yoohoohou…!” he whined. 

“I mean,” you continued, ignoring him, “you are always so quiet and reserved. Who would have known that you would still be so ticklish all these years later?”

Zayne flushed from his ears all the way to his neck from your teasing. Dang, you barely even said anything. He jumped this way and that. “Noooo!” he hiccuped. “Stohop tihihihckling me!”

Yet another flash. 

Oh! “That was the last photo!” you called out.

You leaped up from the bench and tossed open the curtain just in time to see the photo booth print out your four snapshots on two strips of paper. You swiped the pictures and turned around to see that Zayne had collapsed on the bench. 

His cheeks were still a bright shade of reddish pink, and his sweater was disheveled and wrinkled in ways you didn’t think were possible. His collared shirt underneath didn’t fare any better as one side of his collar had popped out of the neckline, and the other one was seemingly lost in the expanse of his sweater. He placed his hands over his chest, and you could see how quickly it was rising and falling with each labored breath.

What was even worse was that your penguin plush had somehow ended up on the floor during the kerfuffle. 

You might have gone just a bit too far this time. 

“Oops, sorry,” you said, scratching the back of your head. “Are you okay, Zayne?”

He nodded and sat up. “I’m fine.” He straightened out his sweater. “You are quite…” he paused for a moment. “...tenacious, aren’t you?” He cleared his throat. 

You smiled awkwardly.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s one of the many things I like about you.”

Zayne stood up and held out his hand expectantly. 

You hadn’t even looked at your photos yet. You glanced down and saw that, while the first photo looked pretty normal (albeit with a straight-faced Zayne), the second and fourth ones featured Zayne’s features all contorted into hysterical laughter, complete with red cheeks and tiny pricks of tears in his eyes. 

The third picture was your favorite as it captured a rare disappointed Zayne—furrowed eyebrows and all. Honestly, that was even rarer than a grinning Zayne. Perhaps Zayne didn’t need to smile to capture a great photo, after all. 

You giggled before tearing paper in half to give Zayne one of the strips. The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, and he let out a soft chuckle as he took in each individual photo. “These are perfect. I will have to take your advice more often.”

“Really?” you said, your face lighting up. You grabbed your penguin plushie before heading out of the photo booth. Zayne grabbed your hand, and you two continued your walk around the mall. “Does that mean I can tickle you whenever I want?”

Zayne shook his head. His eyebrows did that adorable furrowing thing that you had grown to like. “I wouldn’t take it that far, but…” he hesitated when he saw you wilt. “...ah…maybe. Some other time, though.”

You cheered and tugged on his arm in delight. Zayne knew just how to make you smile.